


hold onto hope if you got it

by nekolyssi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Explicit Language, FOR GOD'S SAKE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS PLEASE, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Please read the trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter, Slow Burn, Tokyo Bois, it's gonna be a rough one but cathartic as hell my dudes, please forgive the sole fact that most music references definitely weren't out in 2014, rated M for Mental Health is a Bitch, road to recovery, spoilers for anime-only's
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 71,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25710622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekolyssi/pseuds/nekolyssi
Summary: "Now, in the beginning of their third year of high school, the obnoxious hollering and incessant spirit of his teammates became normalcy to Kei. And now, normalcy is this. Weekly psych meetings. Pharmacy waiting rooms. Prescriptions. Refusal of prescriptions. More prescriptions."
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, Tsukishima Akiteru & Tsukishima Kei, Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi, background Bokuaka
Comments: 208
Kudos: 188





	1. it is what it is

**Author's Note:**

> t/w:  
> nothing in particular!  
> (Please let me know if you feel I should add something)
> 
> Song: It Is What It Is - Mayday Parade

**_May 20th_ **

“Kei, did you hear me?”

“Kei?”

Kei’s eyes shoot up from their fixation on the floor of the doctor’s office, darting around the room to double check his surroundings before apologetically making eye contact with the concerned ones before him.

“Uh, sorry, blanked for a second. What were you saying?”

Kei’s psychiatrist, Dr. Mishiya, is a very kind, patient woman. She has never made him feel inferior or weak despite his current condition, which is certainly grace he can’t provide for himself. It’s refreshing, albeit extremely foreign and difficult to process, to say the least.

“That’s alright. I was saying I think we should increase the Xana—“

“No,” Kei interrupts, intertwined fingers clenching in his lap. “Sorry. You know I’m already hesitant to take that stuff at all. Twice a day is enough.”

Dr. Mishiya gives him a stern glance a very subtle frown before calmly responding, “Kei, I understand your hesitancy, but as we’ve discussed, under my monitoring the risk of—“

“Please.” Kei cuts in again. His hands have begun to quiver so his eyes return to their favored spot on the floor. 

_Focus._

_Ground yourself._

_The room isn’t spinning._

_You’re fine. . ?_

“Alright,” Dr. Mishiya replies calmly, “In that case, I’d like to up your dose of paroxetine. Just to 15mg. Does that sound okay?”

“‘s fine,” Kei replies, voice far away. His eyes are still on the floor.

There’s a pause. Kei _hates_ these pauses during their meetings. He can feel her eyes on him, watching, analyzing, and he hates it. He knows she is here to help him but the silence is deafening. It makes him feel like even a licensed professional doesn’t know what to say to him to make him feel better. As if words held that power anyway. He’s heard the cliche “it won’t be forever,” and “this too shall pass,” countless times and yet we’re still here. Words are just that, after all. Words.

“Alright then, I’ll see you next week. Remember to take it easy on yourself, okay?"

“Right.” Kei picks his bag off the floor and gives a curt bow before turning his back and walking out to the reception room.

*****

Kei heaves a sigh as he exits the clinic. Instinct kicks in and he’s already fumbling through his backpack to pull out his headphones. He opens his music app with no particular mood in mind, just goes to his recently downloaded playlist and hits shuffle. Anything will do right now. Anything to give his mind something else to focus on. There’s the newest J-POP song every store in Japan is playing on loop, a few recent anime OP’s and ED’s, and a few songs from some western bands he found recently. Kei isn’t picky when it comes to music genres. He’ll listen to most anything, and if he had it his way he’d never take his headphones off.

He turns the volume up as he walks.

**_“Oh, somebody tell me I’m fine_ **

**_And that I’m gonna be alright_ **

**_Oh, cuz nobody’s looking to die_ **

**_When they’re happy inside_ **

**_But it is what it is”_ **

It’s raining on his way to the pharmacy, because of course it is. Weather and Kei have an interesting relationship. Rather, they seem to understand each other. On his good days he often notices there’s not a single cloud in the sky. On his...not-so-good days, nine times out of ten it rains. He doesn’t know what weather god decided his life was entertaining enough to synchronize with, but it’s becoming less and less amusing. He's glad he can't hear each raindrop hitting his umbrella, taunting him as he walks.

The wait time at the pharmacy appears longer than usual today. A group of elderly got there before him. He silently hands his prescription and medical card to the clerk and finds an empty seat in the back corner. The staff all know him by now, after all he’s shown up once a week for the past two months almost, and it’d be hard to forget a six-foot something blonde begrudgingly paying for anti-anxiety and antidepressants so often.

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket and grabs for it, already knowing what to expect.

**16:48**

**Tadashi: Tsukki! Appointment go okay?**

Kei has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Yamaguchi knows he has his psychiatrist appointments every Tuesday. And every Tuesday he sends the same message despite knowing he’ll get the same answer.

**16:49**

**Me: Fine, I guess**.

**Tadashi: That’s good!! Any changes?**

Oh, right. Kei completely forgot they decided to increase his anti-anxiety meds. He was too fixated on that mention of increasing Xanax he all but shut down after that.

**16:51**

**Me: Nothing major**.

**Tadashi: That’s good then right? That means she thinks things are working for now? The guys say hi, by the way.**

“The guys.” The Karasuno volleyball team. Specifically the forever idiot duo Hinata and Kageyama. He hasn’t seen them properly in well over a month now. Granted, he doesn’t particularly have the desire to see them, but now, in the beginning of their third year of high school, the obnoxious hollering and incessant spirit of his teammates became normalcy to Kei. And now, normalcy is this. Weekly psych meetings. Pharmacy waiting rooms. Prescriptions. Refusal of prescriptions. More prescriptions. 

**16:55**

**Me: Tell Hinata I grew 1cm this month**

**Tadashi: lol you don’t get measured at that kind of doctor!**

**16:56**

**Me: He won’t know that. Just tell him, it’ll be funny.**

“Tsukishima-san?” A voice from behind the counter calls out. He stands up, feels his phone vibrate in his pocket once more, and heads to the counter. 

His mind goes blank throughout the pharmacist’s explanation. He knows it’s protocol to list off every pill’s name and intake directions despite Kei having memorized them all after the very first time. He mutters his understanding after each one, a robotic reflex unwillingly embedded. 

The clerk gives an all-too-cheery "get well soon!" after he pays, which Kei has always found a bit disconcerting. He stows the prescriptions away in his backpack and heads out of the pharmacy, re-placing his headphones and finally checking his phone that buzzed with a notification earlier.

**16:58**

**Annoying Orange: HEY!! I’M NOT THAT STUPID!!**

**Annoying Orange: BUT IF YOU REALLY GREW ANOTHER CM IM GONNA BE PISSED >:(**

Kei huffs the smallest of laughs to his own surprise, and just sends a middle finger emoji in response.

*****

“I’m home," Kei says in a low voice, removing his shoes and padding his way over to his room wishing for no interruptions, but of course the universe wouldn’t be so kind. When has it ever been?

“Welcome home,” Akiteru replies, peeking his head out from the doorway leading into the living room, “Appointment go okay?”

“It was fine. Same as usual,” Kei says, half of his body already in his room, but he's paused just enough to not be flat-out rude. “Gonna lay down.”

“Okay! Let me know if you need anything!” Akiteru chirps with a clearly half-forced smile.

Kei steps fully into his room muttering, “That should be my line.” under his breath and closes the door, tossing his bag on the desk chair and setting his glasses and headphones on his nightstand. He’ll take the prescriptions out later. Right now he doesn’t want to think about them. He doesn’t want to think about anything at all.

He half falls, half crawls face first into bed, however a six foot something senior manages to do so. As if on cue, relief washes over him. His bed means comfort. Comfort means safety. He reaches his arms out and hooks them underneath the pillow his face is pressed into and takes a deep breath. His chest aches. He's craving oxygen, so he takes another. And then another. It doesn’t take long before he can feel his consciousness fading. He has schoolwork to do so he shouldn’t be napping, but right now, all Kei wants to do is sleep.

His phone pings, jolting himself awake with an embarrassing startled noise he sure as hell hopes Akiteru didn’t hear from the other room.

“Shit! When did I turn the sound on?” He grumbles to himself, grabbing his phone and squinting his eyes to check the notification.

**17:45**

**Kuroo-san: Hey hey Tsukki, how ya feeling?**

Kei flounders a bit to snag his glasses back off his nightstand, nearly knocking down his headphones in his haste, and pushes them onto his face. His fingers start moving immediately.

**17:46**

**Me: One with the void. Or at least I almost was, until your text scared the shit out of me.**

**Kuroo-san: Ahaha my bad. Just wanted to check in. I’ve finished classes for the day, you won’t believe what happened in communications today. Got time to Skype?**

Kei’s face is still halfway stuck in his pillow, but he suddenly gathers enough energy to roll over and sit up properly.

**Me: Don’t tell me Bokuto-san accidentally erased Akaashi-san’s files again.**

**17:47**

**Kuroo-san: Better.**

Kei smiles to himself, something he doesn’t even realize he’s doing. The ache in his chest is gone, something he doesn’t realize either, and his head is clearer than before. That, he does realize.

The void can wait for now. And so can his schoolwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dearest reader,
> 
> Hello. I'm lyssi. I'm 27 years old and I live in Tokyo, Japan. I have loved these boys for the past four years with all of my heart and soul, and they have helped me through hell and back. Now, I have a story to tell you all. It's a very raw, very real, very personal story, and I would be honored if you joined me on this journey. It's not going to be an easy one, but that's how life goes, isn't it. I hope this story can be informative for some, perhaps relatable to others, but most of all I hope that anyone going through anything like this feels heard. You're not alone.


	2. i have no hope, i just want to sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The excited tension in Kuroo’s expression is both infectious yet repulsive. That’s just Kuroo in a nutshell though, infectious yet repulsive, Kei thinks while trying to hide a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> descriptions of a panic attack

**_May 20th, evening_ **

“So then Akaashi mumbles next to me, ‘We’re university students for crying out loud, why are we being forced to play games meant for children?’” Kuroo enthusiastically rambles, all smirks and laughter, on Kei’s computer screen. 

Kei is listening, his favorite pair of headphones on, feet tucked up onto his chair so that he can rest his chin atop his knees with his arms wrapped around them. That is, until he raises one of them to cut in, “I’m with Akaashi-san, that sounds ridiculous.”

“I knew you’d think so,” Kuroo snaps back, “but it’s fun to be stupid once in a while right?”

Kei deadpans at his screen, placing his arm back around his knees.

“Anyway, like I was saying, our professor was going on about this exercise being vital even in business communication, dangers of rumors and harmful information floating around easily, all that jazz. You know how the telephone game works right?”

“The one where the first person in the circle starts with one phrase and whispers it to the next and it goes around the circle until it inevitably becomes a distorted and often inappropriate amalgamation of what it was originally?” 

Kei thinks he vaguely remembers having played this once in elementary school, an exercise in bullying and rumors because one student in particular had been subjected to some nasty torment, but he quickly brushes that thought away.

“Exactly!” Kuroo smiles, (no, wait, did he just  _ wink _ ?) and finger guns the camera. “But you’re missing one detail.” Kuroo inches his face closer to the camera. Just how much is he going to milk this story, good lord. “The last person in the circle has to say out loud what they were told.” His smile is almost devilish. It makes Kei perk his head up off of his knees.

“Oh no. Who was--”

“Akaashi.”

“And you--”

“But of course,” he declares dramatically, holding a diabolic hand to his puffed out chest, “I was the last person in the circle to pass the message to him to present to the class.” The excited tension in Kuroo’s expression is both infectious yet repulsive. That’s just Kuroo in a nutshell though, infectious yet repulsive, Kei thinks while trying to hide a smirk. He also thinks of a list of abhorrent directions this story is going to go, so he almost doesn’t want to ask. (He knows Kuroo is going to tell him anyway).

“Wait, wait,” Kei holds a hand up, “First off, what was the  _ original _ sentence you all started with?”

“I love eating toasted cheese and tuna sandwiches.” Kuroo’s mouth quivers at the edges, already clearly trying to fight back his laughter. 

Kei’s eyes narrow at the screen. He can’t think of many different ways a lame sentence like that could get misconstrued. How bad could this actually be? “This already sounds stupid. Did it even get twisted much by the time it reached you?”

“Not at all, actually. So I figured, this whole exercise will have been completely pointless if I don’t fuck it up  _ somehow, _ ” Kuroo says with that same devilish smile. He actually has the audacity to be proud of this decision, doesn’t he. Unsurprising, but vexing nonetheless.

“Oh god. Just get out with it. This is literally giving me anxiety on behalf of Akaashi-san.” Kei wants to bury his head into his knees entirely.

“So,” Kuroo chokes on a laugh, “I whispered the sentence to Akaashi, and the LOOK he gave me, my god, I can never forget it in a million years.”

Kei can’t fight his smile now. He’s seen a range of Akaashi’s expressions, and some are downright deadly. At last summer’s training camp a few of Nekoma and Fukurodani graduates swung by to help out, and somehow Bokuto ended up eating what was actually Akaashi’s onigiri, his favorite flavor at that. The horrific look on Akaashi’s face when he found out sent Bokuto running to the nearest convenience store to buy him a new one immediately.

“He looked like he wanted to murder me right there in front of everybody. His face was already turning red because our professor was asking him to repeat it for the class, and  _ boy _ was it a sight to behold.”

“Yes, Kuroo-san, we all know you’re a sadist,” Kei deadpans, really just wanting him to cut to the chase at this point, “what exactly did you make him say?”

A pause. Because Kuroo is clearly trying to pull himself together enough to even be able to speak the words.  _ Infectious yet repulsive. _

“I love eating toe cheese and the nuts of witches.”

There it is, the world’s most obnoxious laugh, reverberating in Kei’s headphones. And that’s what does it, he buries his head into his knees entirely. The second-hand embarrassment is enough to make his own face heat up. Poor Akaashi. He never should have agreed to taking a class with this monster.

“And oh god, the entire class--” Kuroo is practically doubled over laughing now, “--was just  _ dying _ .”

Kei has remained completely buried between his knees. His face is aflame half due to the secondhand-embarrassment and half due to the sound of Kuroo’s laugh ringing so loudly in his ears. Regardless, he doesn’t plan on revealing this to save himself from inevitable torment, so he just mumbles in between his knees where the mic on his headphones has been trapped as well.

“Kuroo-san...you are an absolute menace.”

“I know,” Kuroo has calmed down from the laughing fit and lowers his voice just a bit, “don’t act like you don’t like it.” 

The initial reasons for Kei’s tomato-red face all go flying out of the window and are replaced with that one light-hearted accusation. Is his heart racing now too? Just end him now, please.

“I tolerate it. Doesn’t mean I like it,” He mumbles into his knees, praying his tone of voice convinces Kuroo more than it convinces himself. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Whatever expression Kuroo is making right now, Kei doesn’t know because he remains in the sanctuary between his knees, and he’s positive it wouldn’t help the situation much if he saw.

“Well, that was yet another thrilling installment of Kuroo Tetsurou’s Exciting University Adventures, thank you for listening, I’ll almost certainly have another story for you in the coming week.”

Kei chuckles slightly, but doesn’t give a reply aside from that. His mind feels like it’s trying to swim in a thousand different directions, his heart rate still hasn’t slowed, and he fears his breathing is going to start faltering soon, too.

There’s a pause from the other end of the screen, and there’s that feeling again. He’s being watched. Analyzed. 

“So...rough day…?” Kuroo hesitantly asks in that soft and understanding voice of his that makes Kei want to become one with the void immediately.

Kei takes a deep breath and finally lifts his head up from between his knees and adjusts his glasses.

“Sorry, Kuroo-san. I’m just. Yeah. I’m pretty tired. I’ve still got some assignments due that I need to work on so I should probably go…” His voice trails off and his eyes refuse to meet the camera. They don’t even lift to the screen. He doesn’t want to see what kind of face Kuroo is making right now. 

His breathing is definitely faltering now.

“No worries! Take care tonight Tsukki, I’ll bug you again later.” Kuroo has a way of saying these things with such finality, as if it’s a promise. By now, Kei knows it is, and he can’t fight the tiny quirk of his lips.

“I know you will. Thanks, Kuroo-san. Bye.”

Before hitting the “end call” button, he dares to take a final glance at the screen and catches a glimpse of Kuroo with his head resting in the palm of one hand, an easy smile on his face, and the other hand waving goodbye. It wasn’t until after he hit the end call button that Kei realized his hand was halfway up to wave goodbye back. He doesn’t know what kind of face he’s making right now, and he doesn’t want to.

Kei stretches his legs out underneath his desk and reclines back in his chair with a long groan, sliding his hands down his face. His eyes land on the ceiling and just stay there for a while. 

Have you ever had so many thoughts that no single thought can be clear enough to come to the forefront of your brain to focus on, so you’re left drowning in a mental hurricane of blurred, hurried, frantic thoughts? That’s about where Kei is right now. His mind is a prison but there is no escape. How can you even try when you can’t find the key to a single one of the dozens of chains? For now, the ceiling has never seemed more interesting before in his life, because right now there is nothing other than the ceiling.

His phone buzzes on his desk, and that’s thankfully enough to make his eyes shoot from their spot on the ceiling and his mind jump back into reality. He tries another deep breath, heart rate still maintaining the uncomfortably fast speed, then leans forward to grab his phone before reclining back in his chair.

**18:42**

**Akaashi-san: I knew he’d end up telling you, but I had hoped he’d at least allow my pride to heal a bit before doing so.**

Kei smirks at his phone. He truly does feel awful for him. Of all people, why torture the calm and collected Akaashi? Were he in his position, he might just drop that class altogether, regardless of it being a required course in his major. He’s only a first year after all, he could take it next year just like Kuroo is doing.

**Me: Akaashi-san, have you considered transferring courses?**

**18:43**

**Akaashi-san: Countless times. Believe me. But there are no others that are compatible with my schedule. My options are regrettably zero.**

**Me: My deepest condolences.**

**Akaashi-san: Thank you, Tsukishima-kun. Take care.**

Kei stares at his phone for a solid 30 seconds before locking it and putting it back on his desk. He’s never been good at responding to things like “Take care!” (believe me, I’m trying), “Hope you feel better soon! (no one hopes that more than myself, thanks), “Let me know if I can do anything for you!” (I don’t even know what I can do for myself). In the end, he just doesn’t reply. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the words, they just don’t do much for his overly pessimistic, overly critical brain.

Shit. The assignment. Kei takes a deep breath once again, sits up straight, and goes to reach for his textbooks.

Another buzz.

“Jesus Christ, what NOW,” Kei huffs, but when he checks his phone he sees it’s just a message from Akiteru letting him know there’s dinner on the table. He should go out there and sit with him. He knows he should. But he’s not hungry. The smell of food is going to do nothing but aggravate what he’s already trying to fight off.

**18:45**

**Me: Thanks. I’ll eat later**

**Nii-chan: Please do.**

Kei sighs. The assignment. He just needs to work on this damn assignment. That’s all he needs to do today, and then today can be finished. (But then there’s tomorrow).

But then there’s tomorrow... He thinks to himself once again as he shuts his textbook and sets his assignment in the “finished: to be turned in” file on his desk. Kei groans and leans forward to lay his head against his arms on his desk and closes his eyes. The discomfort in his chest from earlier still hasn’t gone away. Last time he checked his phone it had been 7:30, so by now it should be approximately 8:00pm, which is an adequate bed time to his standards as of late. He lazily pulls himself back up and pads over to sit on his bed, already taking off his glasses to put them in their case. Finally taking off his headphones, he winces at the stark difference between the feeling of having the whole world blocked out by music versus the deafening silence that fills his room. He hesitates for just a moment, but sets them on the edge of his nightstand and lies down.

Ah, dammit. The meds.

He sits up far too quickly, cursing himself, the meds, the universe, and opens his backpack to pull out the prescription bag and dumps them onto his desk. Three individually wrapped packets fall out, only two of which he needs at the moment. 

Ethyl Loflazepate. 1mg.

Alprazolam. Which is just the fancy word for Xanax. 0.4mg. His second dose of the day.

Kei grimaces as he takes a swig from his bedside water bottle and downs them both before throwing himself onto his bed probably a bit more child-like than is excusable for someone his size, but he just wants to sleep. He just. wants. to sleep.

Were the universe to be so kind as to allow him that, just the basic human necessity of sleep within a reasonable time frame, he may not have cursed it earlier, but he saw this coming. Though his bed brings a sense of safety, it can’t protect him. The hurricane is back and he can feel his heart rate shoot up despite quite literally not moving a single muscle. 

_ No. _

_ Stop. _

_ You’re fine. _

He tries to repeat this over and over again. But his breath is hitching now, and he’s clutching at his chest. He tries to count. Breathe in for 4, 3, 2, 1. Hold for 3, 2, 1. Breathe out for 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, but it’s no use. He can’t keep control, he lost it before he even tried to grasp at it. The nausea will start setting in soon and--ah, there it is--now he’s done for.

It doesn’t matter how many times you have a panic attack. It never becomes  _ not _ absolutely terrifying. In the moment, you feel like you’re dying. No, you’re  _ convinced _ that you’re dying, but even if you can remind yourself that panic attacks are a thing that you deal with regularly, who’s to say that this isn’t the day you might  _ actually die? _

His hands are trembling, tingling, the sensation in them is dulling. He’s grasping at his nightstand, grasping for solace, and finally finds them, his headphones. He thrusts them onto his head while frantically plugging them into his phone.

He needs music, he needs it now, and he needs it LOUD. So he scrolls quickly through his playlists and finds one full of upbeat rap/hip hop and taps frantically at his screen until he manages to hit the “shuffle” button.

His chest is heaving, but his ears have already become overwhelmed by the aggressive, infectious beat. So he starts to tap his fingers on his chest to the beat. Tries to gain some feeling back. Focuses. Focuses on the sound. He mouths the words even though he can’t quite keep up. The song is so loud and has so much going on between the background track and the rapping it almost drowns out everything else. 

3 songs, maybe 5 songs go by, and he’s still fighting off the nausea, fighting off the painful ache in his chest and deceitful thoughts in his mind, but his breathing has started to become more even and his heart rate has started to settle. Gradually, he finds himself able to close his eyes. Still listening. Still focusing, and slowly but surely he can feel sleep coming. The song currently playing is more mellow by comparison, but as aggressive as the others in its catharsis.

**_“This dramatic life is unnecessary_ **

**_It’s so troublesome_ **

**_I have no hope, I just want to sleep_ **

**_I have no purpose, I just want to sleep”_ **

Kei sleeps.

*****

“Mom, did Kei ever come out of his room to grab dinner?” Akiteru calls from the couch.

“No, I put the food in the fridge about an hour ago, did he never get any?”

The last thing Akiteru wants to do is make their mother more worried than she already is. He can’t imagine how she has managed to hold herself together these past few months and quite frankly, he’s worried the slightest of backslides could break her. Their mother is the strongest woman he knows, but even the strongest crack at some point, and he wants to prevent that for as long as possible.

“Ah, I think he did! I forgot to read the text he sent me earlier, so no worries,” he lies.

“That’s a relief. Thank you for checking in on him. Appointment days still seem to be a bit rough, huh,” she replies, worry still clear in her eyes.

“Yeah, he’ll be alright though.” Akiteru forces a smile for what feels like the second or third time today.

He waits until his mother has finished up whatever chores she was doing in the living room before he lifts himself into the wheelchair waiting beside the couch.

He rolls himself as quietly as possible over to Kei’s bedroom door. He leans his ear against it, listening for any signs that Kei could still be awake, but doesn’t hear any, so he creaks it open just enough to peak inside.

What he sees is a sight he has unfortunately gotten used to. Kei, grasping at his pillow, headphones over his ears and a pained expression on his face despite the fact that his evenly breathing body gives the hint that he’s asleep. 

Akiteru sighs, closes the door silently, and wheels himself to his own bedroom.

There’s always tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Tigridia - Kannonzaka Doppo (lyrics translated)
> 
> If you went "HUH?!" toward the end there, I feel you, and also please trust me. Everything has a reason and everything will be revealed....eventually. Also, thank you for the comments on chapter 1!! It means the world to me to hear your impressions as the story unfolds and it's extremely motivating to me!! 
> 
> (I seriously swear chapters from here on out are longer, bear with me <3)


	3. a regular decorated emergency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uh, it’s not Yamaguchi,” Akiteru replies hesitantly.  
> Kei whips his head back at his brother. “What? Who’s here then?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> bad head-spaces  
> difficult relationship with food

**_May 21st, Morning_ **

Kei can feel himself rising into consciousness, but he pretends he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what time it is, nor does he care. It’s not like he’s on a real schedule now anyway. The only thing that gives him the will to move even a fraction of a centimeter is the discomfort he can feel on the side of his head...ah, he fell asleep wearing his headphones. Again. 

It would appear last night’s attack was gracious enough to exhaust his body to the point he was able to sleep through the night despite his headphones digging into the right side of his skull. However, therein lies today’s problem. Last night’s attack exhausted his body to  _ that _ extent. Meaning, today he’ll be even more of a zombie, even more a shell of himself than usual. 

Dr. Mishiya explained to him during an appointment after learning Kei had great interest in science and the psychological reasons behind what was happening to him. When you have an anxiety or panic attack, the sympathetic nervous system goes into hyperdrive. Think the Fight-or-Flight response. Even if there isn’t a real threat, your brain perceives there to be one anyway and sends your body into the extreme stress response which is  _ absolutely exhausting  _ on your body. When this happens, there’s something called a feedback loop which activates the parasympathetic nervous system. This is your body’s Rest-and-Digest response. After experiencing such a distressing and draining roller-coaster, your body requires time to heal itself. Ironically enough, this “healing” period is not pleasant. In fact, it can be compared to the feeling of a hangover (which Kei obviously has no experience dealing with, nor does he have  _ any _ desire to even come close enough to alcohol to find out). The day after or sometimes even  _ days _ after an attack, one may feel tired, run down, achey, and often wake up with headaches. 

Consider Tsukishima Kei Exhibit A.

Keeping his eyes squinted shut he all but rips his headphones off his head and manages to set them perfectly back on the nightstand. Rolling over, he grabs hold of his comforter, yanks it close up to his chest, and buries his face in his pillow. Yup, his head is already throbbing. A+ start to the day already.

In those brief seconds of movement he could see the light of morning waiting for him on the other side of his eyelids. He mentally gives his window the middle finger. And the entire sun for good measure. Today isn’t going to be a good day. He already knows. He’s already  _ decided. _

As much as he wishes he could fall back into the void, his body has apparently determined the amount of rest he had gotten was sufficient. Now, his brain has woken up enough that even trying to fall asleep is futile. 

Before he gets too lost in his early morning, more-pessimistic-than-usual thoughts, he lets out a long groan and slowly rolls onto his back to try and sit up. Blearily he blinks his eyes open, quite literally glaring at his curtains as if they somehow assaulted him.

His first move is to paw at the bedside water bottle in an attempt to hydrate this god forsaken headache away as quickly as possible, and glares harder when he finds his fingers are too weak to open the cap with ease. He takes several big gulps until it empties and prays that’ll do the trick. 

He goes for his glasses case next, silently relieved he could at least open  _ that _ with no issue, and slides them onto his face. Blinking a few times, his room becomes clear, and he scans it meaninglessly, noting that nothing has changed. His textbooks are still lined up on his desk, the assignments he finished last night are still in the file, his dinosaur figurines are still lined up on the shelves, there’s still a hook on the wall with nothing hanging from it. 

Kei sighs. Well, it’s another day. Nothing’s changed.

He grabs his phone to check the time which reads 7:20, and notes there are zero notifications awaiting him. By now, people know better than to bother him throughout the night, not to say he has many people who dare to bother him as of late. Yamaguchi has always been a given, and Akiteru uses texts more now because it’s...easier. Akaashi seems to understand Kei’s boundaries perfectly and never pushes them, unlike Bokuto who Kei damn near blocked until he was taught “appropriate texting hours are  _ not _ at 3 am,” presumably by Akaashi himself. But then there’s Kuroo. Kuroo bothers him quite a bit. 

_ “I’ll bug you again later.” _

For some reason the “No new notifications” screen tugs at his chest, just a little.

After checking the weather app and dryly laughing to himself at the forecast of rain, he pulls himself off the bed to stand, pinching at the bridge of his nose under his glasses because  _ damn his head hurts.  _

Akiteru isn’t awake yet, and his mother won’t even be home. She works night shifts at the ER now. Comfortable in his solitude, Kei uses the bathroom and decides a shower wouldn’t be the worst idea. His showers are always very quick and efficient, in-and-out to the point Akiteru questions whether or not he thoroughly cleaned himself properly. But he does, very thoroughly in fact, because he can’t let himself stay motionless in the shower. Something about standing still for too long with hot water pouring over you...your mind goes places. He doesn’t want to end up on the floor of his bathtub again. Isn’t bathing supposed to be relaxing? How do people actually take _ baths _ ? How do they not go insane with nothing but the sound of slowly dripping water to distract them from their minds? 

Kei shakes his head as if to physically banish the thought out of his head. No point in dwelling on it. He’s already acknowledged he’s far from the standards of “normal” people. Not that he’s happy about it. Acknowledgement is a far cry from acceptance. 

Having changed into fresh clothes, he does feel a bit more relaxed. He makes his way to the kitchen and frowns down at the fridge. He should have breakfast because he has to take the damn meds, and he always replays a past conversation with his doctor when he comes close to just walking out of the kitchen.

_ “I have a question.” Kei asked, staring at his hands, placed flat against each other. _

_ “Of course, what is it?” Dr. Mishiya replied. _

_ “The instructions said I’m supposed to take these medications with meals. Um, how important is that?” _

_ Dr. Mishiya paused. “Well, it’s standard procedure to take medication with meals to help your stomach digest them easier, so that is preferable.” _

_ Kei’s fingers clenched in on themselves. _

_ “However,” she continued, “it’s not absolutely necessary with these medications...but please, try, even if it’s something small.” _

Even if it’s something small. Kei opens the fridge and grabs the familiar pouch of morning vitamin banana jelly his mom has taken to ordering by the case on Amazon for him because he told her “the B vitamins help me wake up, since I can’t have caffeine.” That’s partially true. He pours himself a glass of orange juice too, might as well add vitamin C as a bonus.

He takes his breakfast to his room, assuming his natural spot at his desk, and boots up his laptop. Routine takes over and he’s already plugged in his headphones and opened YouTube.

**New uploads: Kodzuken | Outlast: Whistleblower part 2. WTF?**

Kei has secretly followed Kenma’s Youtube channel since he started it last year and genuinely enjoys his content. Kei has always enjoyed the occasional video game, so he always eagerly awaits whatever new release Kenma will play. He’ll never tell him, but the videos of him reacting to Slenderman are all saved on a playlist in Kei’s account because they make him laugh every time he watches them. 

This new game in particular certainly is an adrenaline rush. Before he realizes it he’s already finished his jelly pouch, and his face is significantly further away from the screen than when it was when he started watching. The video ends with Kenma’s signature sign-off and Kei finds himself smiling, fingers moving themselves across the keyboard.

**Comments:**

**MoonIsland_K_11: That was terrifying as hell. How do you always keep such a calm demeanor? You might be scarier than the game. Looking forward to the next one.**

It’s already 9:00, and Kei realizes with a pit in his stomach that he’s forgotten something.

God  _ dammit. _ The meds.

He reaches for the tin that holds them and begrudgingly pops out his morning dose of Xanax. The third package which he only takes in the mornings is still unopened, so he dumps it onto the desk.

Paroxetine. 15mg. Was only 10mg last week, but after the refusal of increasing Xanax this was the compromise.

Kei fiddles with the packaging, twirling it around in his hands, almost examining it, though there is no reason to. He’s quite familiar with this medication. It still looks the same as it did 7 years ago.

Truthfully, Kei doesn’t remember much about his childhood. Most of his memories are hazy, hard to grasp, and some feel as though they’re being hidden behind a vault with a thousand locks and enchantments combined. Kei is 17 now, and he understands why. What he does remember is being 6 years old and a lot of yelling. He remembers being 7 years old and a lot of nights spent in Akiteru’s room huddled in bed with him. He remembers being 8 years old and a lot of “Don’t worry, we’re gonna be okay. I’m here.” He remembers being 9 years old and learning what “divorce” meant, but not understanding “why.” He remembers being 10 years old and suddenly it was hard to breathe when it shouldn’t be. He remembers nothing about school, other than meeting Yamaguchi, though the way they met only came to his memory through Yamaguchi reminding him himself. And, he remembers the counselor’s office. He never talked. He just played with the cool magnetic toys that gave his hands and mind a distraction. He remembers being taken to a doctor, and then someone else who wanted him to talk, but he wouldn’t. He was 10 years old. He didn’t understand. He was told “Take this medicine every morning, you’ll start to feel better,” so he did. But he didn’t understand.

Kei is 17 now. And he understands.

He pops the two pills in his mouth and finishes off his orange juice, setting the glass back on the table harder than necessary. He switches his headphones from his laptop to his phone, puts his music on shuffle, and reaches for his textbooks. It’s another day. And nothing has changed.

**_“Can’t take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid_ **

**_Sit back, relax, sit back, relapse again._ **

**_Can’t take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid_ **

**_Just sit back, just sit back.”_ **

*****

The beauty in having tasks is it gives your brain something to focus on. A distraction, and a productive one at that, is the ultimate coping mechanism. Kei has always been a good student, though he might not go so far as to say he likes studying, because no one in their right mind does. Actually, scratch that, Kei isn’t in his right mind to begin with, and he definitely likes studying. 

The issue with having tasks is eventually, you run out of them. Kei places the last of his assignments into the “finished: to be turned in” file and leans back in his chair.

“Now what?” He asks the ceiling. There’s no response.

It’s around noon now, his mom should be asleep after her shift, and Akiteru is definitely awake, probably already taken his near permanent spot on the couch binging another anime. Kei closes his eyes. His headache is gone now, but his head still doesn’t feel...right. It’s as if there is a fog in his brain muddling everything, and god, he’s so tired. He knows he should go join Akiteru on the couch. But that risks the possibility of conversation, which Kei is  _ definitely _ not up for. 

It’s Wednesday, which means after practice Yamaguchi will be swinging by to take Kei’s finished assignments and pass on his new ones. Depending on the kind of day Kei is having, Yamaguchi sometimes hangs out for a little while. Chances are he’ll only have to take a single look at Kei to know today is not one going to be of those days.

Even so, there’s a good six hours before he’ll even be stopping by, so the current dilemma is how to spend his time now. Within that dilemma lies  _ another _ dilemma. He doesn’t want to do anything. He doesn’t want to go out of his room and sit with Akiteru. He doesn’t want to watch anything. He doesn’t want to play anything. Quite frankly he doesn’t want to  _ be _ right now. It’s amazing honestly, how brief that moment of contentment while watching Kenma’s video was. It was so fleeting. Is this all life is now? Chasing momentary contentment? It’s not even true contentment though, it’s all an illusion of it, simply a distraction from everything else.

At some point he moves from his chair to his bed. Raindrops hit his window in rhythmless song, and for once he doesn’t immediately reach for his headphones. Instead, he grabs his phone and checks his home screen.

_ No new notifications. _

His gut clenches in that extremely unpleasant way he refuses to acknowledge. Well. He wouldn’t want to talk to him, either. 

He throws his phone to the floor, a childish act quite unusual for him. But his brain is foggy and his body is screaming for rest, so he lets the song the rain is trying to sing for him lull him into the void.

*****

_ “Kei?” _

_ Ah, that’s Nii-chan’s voice. Nii-chan, who stands not quite as tall as him anymore, but with enough strength and steadfastness to appear eternally bigger than him. That’s right...Nii-chan is... standing… _

_ “Kei, wake up!” _

_ Huh..? _

“Kei, you have a visitor, and stop falling asleep with your glasses on!” Akiteru shakes his shoulder firmly, voice filtering into actual consciousness. 

Kei opens his eyes, jolting a bit at the sight of his brother’s face being at eye level with him despite the fact that he’s currently laying in bed. He was just dreaming…?

“Earth to Kei, I said you have a guest, don’t be rude and keep them waiting,” Akiteru’s tone borders between annoyed and concerned. 

“Ah,” Kei croaks, “I forgot, yeah, gotta give Yamaguchi my assignments…” He pulls himself up, head spinning a bit, trying to fully grasp onto reality after the not-so-accidental but longer-than-intended nap.

“Uh, it’s not Yamaguchi,” Akiteru replies hesitantly.

Kei whips his head back at his brother. “What? Who’s here then?” He stretches down to snatch his phone off the floor and unlocks it to find many frantic notifications.

**Missed calls: Tadashi (1)**

**17:57**

**Tadashi: Tsukki!! I’m so sorry, I’m gonna be held up a bit long with Coach Ukai to help set up some practice game stuff, so I’m sending Kageyama to give you your assignments!! I’m sorry for the short notice.. ><**

**Missed calls: Tadashi (3)**

**18:15**

**Tadashi: Tsukki, are you asleep? Oh man, I really hope you see these messages before he gets there...I’m so sorry!!**

“You gotta be shitting me,” Kei slips out, truly at a loss as to why the universe wants to fuck with him so badly.

“Kei! Language,” Akiteru scolds, wheeling himself backwards to head back out to the hallway. “Don’t keep him waiting!”

Kei and Kageyama have been on bad terms before. They’ve never been necessarily on  _ good _ terms, but over the past two years they have formed a silent agreement along the way that being absolute shits to each other for no reason wasn’t absolutely necessary. Plus, they make a damn good team in front of the net. That doesn’t mean he wants to see him right now. He hasn’t seen him since the incident last month, and definitely doesn’t want to appear in front of him in his current state.

He throws an actual middle finger to the ceiling, aimed at the universe, and pads outside to the hallway.

The way Kageyama’s eyes widen when he sees him makes him want to turn back around, slam the door, and never, ever open it again.

But he doesn’t. He stands there, making no effort to appear like anything other than he actually feels (a damn wreck), because he just really doesn’t have the energy to.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Kageyama replies.

For a moment Kei just looks at him. He hasn’t changed a bit, and he can’t help but wonder just how different he himself looks to garner a reaction like that from Kageyama of all people. Then, he notices the files he’s holding and  _ god fucking dammit he left his assignments in his room. _

Two choices.

Number 1: Be an asshole and make Kageyama wait again while he grabs his files then promptly shoo him away after not seeing him for over a month.

Number 2: Be a decent human being and invite him inside despite every cell in his body screaming “you’ve always been an asshole why  _ now _ of all times are you going to be decent.”

Kei sighs because the universe has dealt him yet another shitty hand.

“I gotta grab my assignments from my room, you can come in, if you want,” Kei offers almost under his breath.

“Oh, okay. Excuse me,” Kageyama nods slightly, taking off his shoes and following Kei into his room.

Once inside, Kageyama doesn’t spare him a single shred of mercy or decency, despite Kei going to extreme efforts to not just kick him out. “You look like shit,” he says flatly.

“Wow. Thanks. You are as charming as ever, I see,” Kei glares at him.

Kageyama is disgustingly perceptive when he wants to be, which happens to be at the same time Kei really, really doesn’t want him to be.

“Where’s your volleyball?” Kageyama questions in the same tone.

“In the closet,” Kei replies curtly, double checking his files on his desk before actually kicking Kageyama out this time.

Kageyama looks over to the wall beside the door. “And your jersey?”

It takes everything in Kei’s power not to completely crumple the papers in his hands. “ _ In. The closet.”  _ He stares Kageyama down, daring him to question him again.

“Why?”

In one swift motion Kei is centimeters from Kageyama’s face and is slamming the files against his chest. “I don’t owe you any answers. To anything,” he says definitely.

Kageyama doesn’t look mad. Why doesn’t he look mad? His eyebrows are turned up in a really unnatural way, almost as if…

“Listen, I,” Kageyama is looking down now, brows furrowed as if he’s thinking really hard to solve a simple math equation, “I suck at saying things.”

“Really? I never noticed,” Kei hasn’t used that sarcastic tone of voice in a while, he thinks, and takes a step back.

“Shut up asshole, I’m just trying to figure out what to say.” 

Kei backs away further until he feels his legs hit his bed and he sits down. He  _ hates _ this. He doesn’t want Kageyama’s pity. He’s already filled with shame and embarrassment to the bone that he even let him see him like this.

“Everyone’s worried about you. But I’m sure you already know that.”

Kei says nothing. Of course he knows that.

Kageyama’s brow furrows further. “We all want you back. The Spring Interhigh qualifiers will be coming--”

“Is that really what you’re here to say to me?” Kei interrupts, eyes daggers. His chest has a knife in it. “You want me back so that you can make it to Spring Interhigh? You don’t have  _ any idea--” _

“That’s not what I meant!!” Kageyama raises his voice, challenging Kei’s eyes with his own. “I told you. I suck at this. I mean, I don’t know. It wouldn’t be the same without you. Don’t make me say embarrassing shit.”

The knife in Kei’s chest twists. He lowers both his eyes and his voice. “I don’t know what you expect me to say.”

“I don’t know either. Sorry. I don’t know how to handle this kind of situation,” Kageyama’s discomfort is as clear as day, and it makes Kei smirk.

“I am entirely unsurprised, but I have to say it’s quite fun to watch you flail like this, anything else you want to get off your chest?” Kei’s tone is lighter, and the two look at each other with mutual smirks.

“You’re such an asshole,” Kageyama retorts.

“I know.”

“Well. Get better soon. We’re waiting for you.” Kageyama’s eyes are sincere. This is the first time he’s had such a vulnerable conversation with Kageyama and it kind of makes him feel sick.

“I’m. I’m doing my best,” Kei tries to say with confidence, but something tells him it’s not just himself who’s aware he’s putting up a front.

“Good. Here’s your assignments. Ikuko-Sensei sends her regards as well.” Kageyama sets the new set of files on Kei’s desk and turns around to the door to make his exit.

“Hey, King,” Kei calls out, satisfied with the adverse reaction Kageyama has although he still responds to the old nickname, “Tell everyone I say hi. Please.”

Maybe it’s part of their silent agreement, but Kageyama seems to know that wasn’t an easy thing for Kei to say, so he doesn’t give him a hard time, he simply replies, “Of course,” and makes his way out.

Kei flops down onto his bed with a sigh and whips his phone out immediately.

**19:02**

**Me: You owe me like, a hundred strawberry shortcakes.**

He stares at the message until the “read” notification pops up.

**19:03**

**Tadashi: I’m sooo soorrryyyy T____T**

There’s a smile growing on his face, and he doesn’t bother fighting it.

**Me: It’s fine. Wasn’t world-ending. Could go another month without seeing him, though.**

**19:04**

**Tadashi: Tsukki!!! That’s mean. He actually asks about you all the time. Pretty much every day almost. He’s really worried about you. In his own Kageyama-y way.**

Kei could tell. He saw it in the initial shock in his face. He could hear it in the tone of his voice. He could feel it when he didn’t react in anger but with...genuine concern instead. He doesn’t know how to feel about any of it.

**19:05**

**Me: I’m kidding. I know.**

**Tadashi: OK good! Get some rest Tsukki, sorry I couldn’t swing by today. Let me know how you’re feeling this weekend and I can come by anytime okay?**

**Me: Thanks. Will do.**

Kei has never been comfortable with people worrying about him. People worrying about him gives him this uncomfortable feeling in his gut because it means he’s the cause of other people’s grief. But he should be focused on dealing with his own grief! Not that of other people! This vicious cycle spirals and spirals until he can’t pinpoint where exactly the greatest pressure is coming from, the need to get better for himself, or for the people around him. He doesn’t want people to worry about him. He’ll deal. He’s...dealing. Kind of. 

He doesn’t realize he’s been staring at his ceiling again until the vibration in his palm startles him back down to earth.

**19:10**

**Kuroo-san: tsukki, send help.**

Kei pretends his stomach didn’t just do a giant backflip. He also pretends that he isn’t well aware this is far from the first time he’s had this kind of reaction. 

**19:11**

**Me: if this is an emergency, you should probably call the police, not contact someone 400km away.**

**Kuroo-san: 363.6km**

**Kuroo-san: anyway**

_ (Why does he know that?) _

**Kuroo-san: bo’s trying to make dinner before akaashi gets home**

**Kuroo-san: he opted for curry because no one can fuck up curry, right**

**Me: ….right**

**19:12**

**Kuroo-san: so i’m just sitting on their new couch, comfy as hell by the way, i’ve claimed it.**

Kei imagines Kuroo sprawled out exactly like a cat would, in that way where they send a silent message to any human in the vicinity that this is _their_ spot now. Only a fool would dare to try and take it. He immediately unimagines it.

**Kuroo-san: and suddenly i smell this...weird burning smell. then comes an “OH SHIT”**

**Me: …**

**Kuroo-san: they’ve got an electric stove right, and apparently he had splattered some of the curry onto the burner, and his genius-ass thought it would be a good idea to scrape it off.**

**Kuroo-san: with the spatula.**

**Kuroo-san: THE SPATULA IS PLASTIC.**

**19:13**

**Me: oh my god.**

**Kuroo-san: now the place smells like burnt plastic AND burnt curry and akaashi will be home in like 10 minutes and bo’s spraying water on the stove which is definitely not helping.**

**Me: who gave bokuto-san kitchen rights in the first place.**

**Kuroo-san: i was too lazy to cook lol**

**Me: sounds about right.**

**Kuroo-san: you wound me so, tsukki**

**19:14**

**Me: kuroo-san, you literally told me the other day that you were on day 8 of Cup Noodle dinner**

**Kuroo-san: i’m a starving university student. you’ll understand next year ;)**

_ (Mental Google search: how to unsee an emoji) _

**Kuroo-san: shit, i think akaashi’s home earlier than expected. i’ll update you with the details, this is bound to be a shitshow.**

**Me: send akaashi-san my regards. as for bokuto-san, tell him to please buy proper cooking utensils.**

_ read. _

Kei puts his phone down and sighs. It has been....a day. He’s pretty sure half of it was some sort of cursed hallucination. He’s fully sure that he’s still exhausted despite sleeping so much already. Oh, and he’s hungry. He should do something about that. Right. He’ll grab something small, apologize to Akiteru for earlier, and return to the void, hoping the universe will be kinder tonight after all it put him through today.

*****

Akaashi Keiji walks up to the elevator of their new apartment, backpack hung neatly against his back, the exhaustion from his longest day of classes heavy on his body. 

_ Their new apartment. _

He marvels at the thought. Two years ago he wouldn’t have imagined he and Bokuto would be sharing an apartment together even in his wildest dreams. The softest of smiles spreads across his lips.

He exits the elevator, following the still foreign pathway to their door, when he hears them. Raised voices, frantic in their shouting, and what on earth is that smell?

His smile fades into a flattened expression as he mentally prepares himself for whatever it is he is about to have to deal with.

Two years ago, he probably could have imagined whatever this is. Some things never change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “It’s not so pleasant  
> And it’s not so conventional  
> It sure as hell ain’t normal  
> But we deal, we deal.”
> 
> Song: Camisado - Panic! At The Disco
> 
> For the record, banana jelly is a thing and it's delicious. I'm eating(drinking?) it with my cup of orange juice as I post this.


	4. let me in the walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say the greatest love stories of all time have already ended. But Tetsurou would have been damned if he would have let something so clearly written in the stars escape history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> nay nay, today I bring you HAPPINESS.  
> ....for at least the first half. then inner crisis but nothing notable. ENJOY

**_May 21st, Evening_ **

_ “TETSUROU!”  _ Bokuto shouts frantically from the kitchen. “Get your  _ ass _ off my couch and come  _ help me _ !! For the love of god Keiji will be home any minute!!”

Tetsurou smiles mercilessly to himself at his friend’s struggle. The couch really is  _ so  _ comfy, he has half a mind to not get up and help, but he’s not that awful. 

**19:14**

**Me: shit, i think akaashi’s home earlier than expected. i’ll update you with the details, this is bound to be a shitshow.**

He types the message out as quickly as he can because it sounds like Bokuto’s knocking over other kitchenware now, and he’d like to avoid being chided by Akaashi two days in a row, thanks. 

Tetsurou slinks himself up off the couch in one fluid motion, detouring to the front door to flip the deadbolt down before finally sauntering up to his friend’s rescue.

The curry seems to have been preserved, thank god, because he’s hungry. The burner’s got a nasty amalgamation of burnt plastic and curry, still steaming after Bokuto’s genius move of just pouring water over everything. He’s got the most adorable stress-filled look on his face, like a puppy who got caught tearing up all the toilet paper in the bathroom.

Tetsurou pats his Bokuto’s streaked head of hair, smiling. “You managed to turn the heat off though, at least your brain’s working that much.”

“That was...after I poured the water…” Bokuto admits sheepishly.

“So that’s why there was so much sizzling. Bo, come on.” Tetsurou moves around him to examine the state of the burner a bit clearer.

“Yeah, this isn’t just gonna scrape off. You’re probably gonna have to get some heavy-duty cleaning supplies for this.”

“You think Keiji will be mad? Oh man...we  _ just _ moved in here…” 

Bokuto has done his best to give Akaashi everything a freshly graduated high schooler turned university student could dream of, from framed team photos to tacky owl decor. It perfectly commemorates the finished chapter of their lives as they enter this new one together. 

“I’m sure he’ll--”

Tetsurou stops mid-sentence at the sound of keys entering the lock, unsuccessful in opening the door, followed by confused, frantic knocking.

“I deadbolted the door so he couldn’t just walk in before I surveyed the damage,” Tetsurou offers the explanation, but Bokuto’s already bounding over to open the door, shouting a “WHAT WOULD I DO WITHOUT YOU!” over his shoulder. Tetsurou follows a few steps behind him, leaning against the corner of the hallway to give the two some space.

Bokuto hurriedly unlocks the door, swinging it open with an overtly loud “H-HEY BABE! WELCOME HOME!”

Tetsurou lifts up onto his tip-toes to catch a glance at Akaashi and huffs a laugh at his completely flat expression followed by an equally flat, “Kou. What happened.”

Bokuto fumbles out a string of “uh, well, um” as he backs up to allow Akaashi in, so Tetsurou speaks up. “Bo nearly burned the place down.”

“I DID NOT?!” Bokuto snaps up at him, betrayed eyes screaming ‘ _ I trusted you. _ ’

“Well, that certainly  _ smells _ believable,” Akaashi says, removing his shoes and passing by Bokuto with him following behind, clearly dreading the reaction awaiting him.

Tetsurou reclaims his official spot on the couch, reaching for his phone and smirking as he hears Akaashi’s “Oh my god.” Bokuto starts explaining what happened, in that strangely soft voice he only seems to manage around Akaashi, who laughs lightly at the story. Soon, they’re both laughing along with each other, Akaashi whispering a small thank you for the attempt at making dinner for him, brushing his lips quickly across Bokuto’s cheek. Tetsurou turns his face down to his phone immediately. He’s observed these two for so long but still doesn’t want to be an intruder in their private moments.

**19:33**

**Me: surveyed the crime scene myself. was pretty nasty. akaashi’s not mad though.**

Of course he’s not mad. Tetsurou already knew. He was going to reassure Bokuto that this would be the outcome when he was worrying about it earlier. Tetsurou can’t remember a time Akaashi has actually been mad at Bokuto. Frustrated? Sure. Annoyed? Well, that’s a given. But never  _ mad. _ Akaashi has known Bokuto inside and out for over 3 years now and has happily taken every single part of him, even the frustrating parts, the annoying parts, and has loved them wholeheartedly. 

Yes, Tetsurou has observed these two for these 3 years. During their second year of high school Bokuto frantically texted him, going on about this amazing first year setter that joined named “Akashi.” He told him he’s never felt so excited spiking a toss before. Tetsurou thought he was just exaggerating until he saw for himself at their next joint practice. 

He saw it in Akaashi’s eyes, which followed Bokuto’s every move as if he was staring at the brightest, most beautiful star in the sky. He saw it in Bokuto’s energy, the way he would jump a little higher, shout a little louder. The way the  _ first _ person he’d look to directly after a successful spike was always Akaashi. Craving his affirmation, demanding his attention. 

Tetsurou already knew.

They say you can tell if someone has feelings for another person if they’re the first person they look to when a joke is made. Something about longing for their reaction the most, and Tetsurou witnessed this and so much more firsthand for the following two years after that initial practice match. 

Akaashi watching, always watching, as Bokuto grew more and more into the power ace he was destined to be, with all of the pride and satisfaction of someone who had been his biggest fan since day 1. Bokuto, pestering Akaashi during any downtime, because there was no one who made him feel as on top of the world as he did, but he hadn’t even realized it yet. He was ever oblivious to Akaashi’s feelings as he was with his own. Akaashi, silently loving him for those years full of ups and downs, never wanting to get in Bokuto’s way, because he was destined for greatness, he knew. And to Akaashi, what would be would be, and he would have been happy just to see Bokuto happy. Bokuto, ever oblivious. Ever oblivious to everything, despite it being right in front of his face the entire time. 

But Tetsurou knew. 

They say the greatest love stories of all time have already ended. But Tetsurou would have been damned if he would have let something so clearly written in the stars escape history.

One evening, days before graduation ceremonies would begin across Tokyo, Tetsurou and Bokuto met. Bokuto had already received his scout from the Japanese National Volleyball Association to enter the pros straight away, which he obviously accepted, (because he was destined for greatness, afterall). Tetsurou had gotten his acceptance into Tokyo University, his own ambitions written out in front of him as well. So, they sat together on the bike racks near the sports store they used to go to together.

“You made it dude, can’t believe you’re going onto the big leagues. I mean, obviously I  _ can _ believe it but you know what I mean,” Tetsurou said, head turned up to the starry sky. 

Bokuto beamed at him. “ _ RIGHT? _ It’s so surreal. I’ve worked so hard for this. And it’s finally here, man.” His energy was infectious, but Tetsurou didn’t let himself get swept into it. He brought him here for a reason.

“Wonder what your team’s gonna be like,” Tetsurou wondered aloud, eyes glancing to the side at his friend, seeing if the cogs in his head were turning yet.

“They’ve gotta all be awesome too right? Of course I’m gonna be the ace though,” Bokuto laughed that confident, endearing laugh of his. Nope. Not turning yet.

“Bet it’s gonna be weird though…” Tetsurou paused.

“What will?”

“Not having Akaashi toss for you anymore.” He looked directly into Bokuto’s eyes as he said this. Watched them widen in slow, delayed realization. 

A minute, maybe two passed by. Bokuto’s expression never changed, although he did gradually turn his head to that starry sky, as if searching it for the answer, the most obvious answer of all. Tetsurou silently watched him, watched the cogs finally,  _ finally _ start turning, and waited.

“Kuroo?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I love Akaashi.” 

Bokuto spoke those five words with such certainty, wearing the purest face of enlightenment, eyes gleaming like the stars they had just been searching through.

Tetsurou closed his eyes in relief, smiled softly, and looked back up at his best friend. “I know. Now please,  _ please _ go tell him.”

There’s no way the greatest love stories of all time have already ended, Tetsurou thought to himself, as he watched Bokuto already starting to run toward the train station, phone in his hand. 

They graduated, and that summer would bring many changes. Longing glances became mutual, open, pure, and fond. Demands for attention became needless, because the attention came without even asking. “Akaashi” became “Keiji” and “Bokuto-san” became “Koutarou” and sometimes even “Kou.” Tetsurou still observed them, happy to see his two friends so happy. Finally, just as he knew they were always meant to be.

It’s been over a year since then, and he’s still convinced he played a part in history.

**19:35**

**Tsukki: must not have been that bad then**

The vibration from Tsukki’s text jolted Tetsurou out of his reminiscing, and he can’t tell where exactly the smile he’s wearing right now is coming from.

**Me: no no, you should’ve smelled it, it’s gonna take some high-grade shit to clean that off.**

Akaashi and Bokuto leave the crime scene to join Tetsurou in the living room. Akaashi stares him down until he moves over enough to give him space on the couch while Bokuto plops down onto the ground cross-legged. 

“So, what’s the damage?” Tetsurou asks Akaashi, who is decidedly not looking at him.

“You know, I have half a mind not to speak to you still,” he replies, Bokuto huffing out a laugh which earns him a glare.

“Oh come on Akaashi, I apologized like, twenty times.” Tetsurou leans into him, batting his eyelashes. Akaashi sighs and closes his eyes in that ethereal “I can’t believe I put up with either of you” way of his.

“We’ll have to grab some baking soda and vinegar, but it should come off just fine. We do need to invest in better cooking ware, though.”

“Oh! That’s what Tsukki said too,” Tetsurou half-shouts in his recollection, startling Akaashi, who he was still leaning against.

That gets a real reaction out of Akaashi, finally. Albeit just a quirk of an eyebrow in Tetsurou’s direction. 

“So it’s safe to assume Tsukishima-kun already knows what happened?” Something about his tone is unsettling to Tetsurou. He knows that tone because he’s used it before countless times. That “I’m onto you” tone.

“He says hi, by the way,” he says, decidedly pushing the previous thought away.

“HI TSUKKI!” Bokuto chirps from the floor, as excited as ever at the clue that Tsukki actually holds some sort of fondness for him.    


“He can’t hear you Koutarou.” Akaashi laughs softly, “Tell him hello for me too, of course,” he says as he eyeballs Tetsurou.

“On it!”

**19:38**

**Me: akaashi says hi back, and bokuto says hi too, very loudly.**

Tetsurou keeps his face extremely still as he watches the “read” sign immediately appear, knowing Akaashi is still watching him.

**Tsukki: i could hear him from here.**

Dammit, yep, he definitely smiled. That’s the thing about texting with Tsukki, he will be so dry half the time but then play along with Tetsurou in ways that make him want to do everything in his power to get him to be that lighthearted more often.

“You sure talk to Tsukki a lot lately!” Bokuto says, leaning an arm on one knee and resting his face onto it.

Either he got  _ way too good _ at reading the room out of nowhere or is just  _ that bad  _ at reading the room.

“Do you keep in contact with anyone else from Karasuno?” Akaashi, damn him, knows exactly what he’s doing.

No, he doesn’t. And that’s the problem. Well, actually, he exchanges memes with Sawamura now and then but he definitely can’t call that “keeping in contact.”

“I’m pretty tight with their old captain too!” he lies through his teeth, expression not giving a single hint that what he’s saying is false.

“Ohhh! I remember him. Crazy good at receives. Looked like he could probably deadlift me, too.” Bokuto, bless him, absolutely hasn’t the slightest of clues as to where this conversation is going. Tetsurou is grateful, but Akaashi is ruthless and he can feel A Wreckening coming.

“Does he hear about your daily university nonsense as well?” Akaashi asks, point blank, expression unreadable to the untrained eye, but Tetsurou happens to be very well trained in this regard.

“Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated here?” Tetsurou awkwardly laughs, throwing his arms over the back of the couch, trying to assume as much of an air of “totally calm and collected” as he can.

“After what you put me through yesterday, it’s quite fun to watch you squirm, Kuroo.” Akaashi’s smile makes him want to torture him in front of the entire economics class a hundred times over.

“Wait, I’m lost,” Bokuto says, eyes darting between the two of them, searching for answers.

“Kuroo likes Tsukishima-kun,” Akaashi says at the exact same time as Tetsurou says, “I’m just worried about him, is all.”

Time freezes. 

All Tetsurou can think about is how he watched Akaashi pine for Bokuto for 2 whole years, but he never even considered the possibility that all along at the exact same time Akaashi was watching him…

“I.”

Yep, that’s about as far as he can manage right now. He feels like someone took pliers to his chest and ripped it open, then took a magnifying glass to his heart without his permission for all to see. 

Tetsurou is too far gone staring out at the details of their hardwood floor to catch the lightbulb turning on in Bokuto’s head as he shouts, “IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW.”

There’s a hand on Tetsurou’s leg.

“Kuroo, I still am grateful to you for all you did for Bokuto and I. I just want to make sure I’m not letting you do what I almost did,” Akaashi says, gently.

What he almost did? Almost did what? Almost focused too much on the other person’s well-being he almost just let him go and be happy despite putting years of effort being a part of it without--

Oh.

“Guys I, I can’t even think about that right now. Tsukki...I can tell he’s still having a hard time. I mean it when I say I’m just really worried about him, any feelings aside.” Tetsurou’s hands are sweating, so he pulls them off the couch and crosses his arms instead.

“Of course he is, and I’m glad you recognize that. I think now would be the worst of times to admit your feelings, so I suppose this interrogation as you called it was out of my concern for Tsukishima-kun as well.” 

Tetsurou’s a bit vexed at that. “Don’t think so lowly of me now, Akaashi. I’ve been looking after this kid for the past two years, I want nothing but the best for him.”

“I know that. But we only know fractions of what happened. The details we don’t know could be far worse than we could imagine, and that doesn’t even cover the possible repercussions it’s had on Tsukishima-kun’s mental health.” 

Akaashi is coming from a place of genuine concern, Tetsurou knows that, and it’s not like he hasn’t thought that exact same thing a hundred times already. 

“Tsukki’s never been the type to talk about himself, huh?” Bokuto chimes in, “Like, what even is his favorite color?”

“Green,” Tetsurou replies immediately, “it reminds him of dinosaurs.”

Akaashi smiles softly at him before saying, “See, but we didn’t know that. I wonder how many other people do?”

Tetsurou mulls over that thought for a moment. Surely his childhood best friend, the freckled boy has got to know. He’s got to know so many things about Tsukki. Ah, and there’s that feeling. Jealousy. There are people who know so many more things about Tsukki than he does, but he wants to know them, too. Favorite color is a start though, he decides. It’s a start.

“I don’t think he opens up much. And if he really is struggling with...stuff, that can be the most detrimental thing, right? I want him to feel like he can...I don’t know...talk to someone…” Tetsurou trails off. Why is he bothering to be vague anyway.

Akaashi already knows. “From what I can tell, it seems Tsukishima-kun does enjoy talking to you, at least. And that’s a good sign, so whatever you’re doing...keep doing it. But be patient with him too.” 

“Yeah. I don’t want to push him or scare him off. That’s the last thing I want.” Tetsurou means it.

“Tetsu, this side of you is cute,” Bokuto muses happily.

“Shut up Bo, I was totally blindsided by all of this!” Tetsurou huffs, face hotter than he wants to admit.

“Dude, I literally had an earth-shattering love life epiphany in front of you, and now it’s all come full circle, I think I’m gonna cry.” Bokuto flails his hands in front of his face to dry his eyes and Tetsurou kind of wants to punch him.

“First of all, I technically admitted to nothing. Second of all, kinda hate both of you right now.” He’s ended up sunken so deep into the couch he might need help getting out.

Bokuto laughs heartily at that and Akaashi chuckles quietly too.

“Now then, shall we eat?” Akaashi offers, seeing as the subject of dinner completely got dismissed.

“Yes  _ please _ I am starving. Akaashi, help me up.” Tetsurou shoots his arms up at him.

Akaashi stands and looks down at him, eyes narrowing . “Hm, no.” He turns toward the kitchen.

Tetsurou clicks his tongue and scowls at the back of his head. “Bo,” he whines, “help meee.”

“I gotchu!”

Bokuto springs up from the floor, grabs Tetsurou’s wrists and yanks him up off the couch so hard they almost fall backwards and knock over a potted plant.

Emphasis on  _ almost _ , because no one here needs another disaster today.

*****

The second Tetsurou gets back to his dorm he heads for the showers. He needs to clear his head after all of...that. 

The feeling of near-scalding hot water immediately relaxes his muscles, and he lets out a long sigh, allowing all of the tension he wasn’t aware he was holding to release itself. How long has he been holding onto this tension, he wonders. And how much longer would he have held onto it had Akaashi not deliberately ripped the curtains of his chest open for him?

He racks his brain to process everything, gathering every single true piece of information and laying it bare at the forefront to file. Akaashi had said Tetsurou liked Tsukki. This is a true piece of information. His stomach clenches as he mentally accepts that. Tetsurou had said he was just worried about him. Well. Let’s get rid of the “just” and now that is a true piece of information. Another clench. There are many details about Tsukki’s “situation” that he doesn’t know about, including just how much it has affected Tsukki. His brain decides this is now concern number one. Because it doesn’t matter how he feels about Tsukki, he can’t burden him with something like that until he has recovered from...all that happened. But Tetsurou can’t just sit back. The urge to help, the urge to  _ fix _ is too strong. He’s been doing that with Tsukki all along.

It’s still as clear as day, that first day he saw him, so aware of his own lack of ability he refused to put in as much effort as the others because he just didn’t see the point. He can still see the look on his face when Tetsurou pushed him a bit  _ too far _ that night in the gym. He can still see when Tsukki got his first clean shut-out block during one of the practice matches. Kenma caught him staring and told him to focus on their own match. But Tetsurou was proud, and he felt like he had made a difference. Snide comments that hit just the right spot, followed by genuine advice and encouragement.

Their relationship went on like that throughout the next year too, as Tetsurou continued to assist in Nekoma’s practice matches and training camps for his future resume. He continued to mentor ( _ read: pester _ ) Tsukki the whole time. It was during that year he used the lame excuse of wanting to send him footage of some epic Olympic rally on Youtube to get his number. He had sauntered over to Bokuto to brag about it, who then bolted to Tsukki begging for his number too, only to get promptly rejected while Tetsurou cackled in the background. (Tetsurou gave it to him later, though. Tsukki wasn’t pleased, and informed him that Akaashi had his number all along, so technically  _ he _ won this weird contest anyway).

Tetsurou realizes he hasn’t moved at all since getting in the shower, he’s been too busy fixed there reminiscing on all of this with a pathetic grin on his face. He turns to face the shower head, hoping the water will cleanse his entire brain from getting too wrapped up in this. 

It’s no use, though. Because of course the next logical train of thought is the year after. This year. He can’t escape it, it’s already playing behind his eyelids. The message from Sawamura in February about the accident, the immediate sink of his heart into his stomach. The empty text screen that sat there for hours because what can you even  _ say _ . He never got a response, anyway. He wasn’t offended.

Then May came, meaning the yearly scheduled Karasuno and Nekoma practice match was coming, and Tetsurou was anxious to see him. He was already prepared to lay off on the usual jackassery, he just wanted to see him there, okay, still playing volleyball, still himself. He got to the gym early. Introduced himself to the new first years. Sat beside Coach Nekomata and chatted purely out of desperate need to get the nervous energy out of him as they waited for Karasuno to arrive.

The freckled boy, the one always joined at the hip with Tsukki, appeared in the doorway sporting the captain’s jersey and announcing excuse me’s and thank you for having us. Meanwhile, Tetsurou sat there with an inexcusable heart rate for someone who was just sitting down. Chibi-chan had followed excitedly behind Freckles, towing along their beast of a setter. The Karasuno second years followed suit too, and the first years entered nervously one by one. 

He wasn’t there. Tsukki wasn’t there. 

Tetsurou’s mind was going mad. He had heard no updates from Sawamura, because apparently he hadn’t either, so Tsukki not showing up for this practice match was an immediate red flag. It took everything in his power to pull his senpai pants back up and get through the matches, but the moment they ended, he bee-lined it directly to one specific person.

“Heyyy! Great job today. You guys are really starting to find the vibe with your new members, huh?” Tetsurou had said to the very startled freckled boy, probably because he used that “senpai voice.”

“O-oh! Thank you! Yeah, we’ve been practicing a lot already!” Freckles smiled as he replied.

Tetsurou really wasn’t sure how to transition there. Was there even a good transition into something like this? “So, uh,” He dropped the facade immediately, and Freckles sensed the change, “I noticed you’re missing a member…”

Freckles looked down, carefully trying to find the right words. “You mean Tsukki, right. Yeah he’s uh, he’s taking a break for a little while.” If he was trying to come across as reassuring, it really didn’t work.

“Is he okay?” Tetsurou spat out. “Sorry I just…”

“No no that’s okay, um, thank you for asking!” Freckles kindly replied, something different in his eyes then. “Things are hard for him right now. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind hearing from you though.”

Tetsurou gasps a breath out from under the water still raining down onto his head. He pulls his hands up to his face and runs them down it, giving his cheeks a slap for good measure.

That day, he had gotten home and sent Tsukki a text.

**19:17**

**Me: hey, tsukki. was really bummed you weren’t there today. was looking forward to it. hope you’re doing alright, it’d be nice to hear from my favorite country bird again.**

He waited. And he waited. And he got so tired of waiting he sat his phone face down on his desk and went to bug Kenma in the dorm next door, ending up watching him play video games for a few hours. Kenma knew Tetsurou didn’t do that kind of thing for no reason, but he also knew not to ask. Since starting university even Kenma’s sleep schedule started to become less vampire-like, so he kicked Tetsurou out a little after midnight. He returned to his own dorm and stared at his phone facing down on his desk and wrestled with himself for less than a second before coming to the conclusion that there was no way he could sleep without knowing. So, he grabbed his phone and clicked the home screen awake.

**1 New Notification: Tsukki**

Tetsurou had let out the biggest breath he had no idea he was holding. The kind that makes your lungs hurt. He opened his messenger immediately, feeling his heart beat out of his chest just knowing he even got a response.

**20:43**

**Tsukki: Hello, Kuroo-san. I’m sorry to disappoint you with my lack of presence today. I’m alright, thank you. I heard you crushed us. Unsurprising.**

In that moment he had a million things he wanted to say, things he wanted to ask, but he knew that was not the time for any of them.

**00:16**

**Me: it’s only because karasuno didn’t have your killer blocks!! ;)**

The next day he’d wake up to a message sent much earlier than when he had woken up that read “i had a half-decent mentor.”

Ah, how long has he been in the shower? He reaches for the shampoo bottle and gets to being productive. There’s a tune in his head that’s been stuck there for the past day or so. He’s always been a sing in the shower type of person, but after entering university he’s kept that to a minimum for the sake of anyone else just trying to bathe in peace.

But he can’t get it out of his head, so he hums the melody just a little. By the time the chorus comes around he lets out just a bit of his voice, quiet enough to be muffled by the sounds of the shower.

**_All your actin’_ **

**_Your thin disguise_ **

**_All your perfectly delivered lies_ **

**_They don’t fool me_ **

**_You’ve been lonely, too long_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Dust to Dust - The Civil Wars (seriously the lyrics to this song KILL me please give it a listen)


	5. your story begins from here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Tadashi’s eyes, Tsukki is the strongest person he has ever known.  
> But strong people break, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> descriptions of a panic attack

**_April 1st_ **

In Tadashi’s eyes, Tsukki is the strongest person he has ever known. 

Tadashi was 8 years old when he looked up through teary eyes from the cold hard ground of the park and saw him standing there, totally unfazed by the bullies’ insults. He just laughed at them in response, impenetrable, even back then. He was so strong, so cool. Tadashi wished he was just like him. 

How someone like that was willing to become his friend, Tadashi still doesn’t know, to be honest. 

Tadashi was 9 years old when Tsukki’s parents got divorced and he watched on as Tsukki put up barrier after barrier, protecting himself as much as he could from a reality that no child should have to come to terms with. He was strong.

Tadashi was 10 years old when Tsukki made him pinky-promise not to tell anyone when he found out he was seeing a special doctor every month and had to take special medicine every day. Tadashi didn’t think Tsukki was any less strong or any less cool because he had to see a doctor or take medicine, but he kept that promise anyway.

Tadashi has been by Tsukki’s side for each year after that, each one bringing their own struggles, some being hellish experiences he wishes every day he could have spared his best friend from. Strong people break sometimes, too. And in his mind, that only means they will build back up twice as strong. He just wishes Tsukki believed that himself, too. 

It’s been nearly a decade since they first met, which is still so hard to believe. They’re third years now, also hard to believe. Today is the last first day of school they will experience together, walking side by side, and Tadashi thinks Tsukki is stronger than he’s ever been.

But strong people break, too.

Their first day of classes passed by in a blink. They share homeroom once again, and Tadashi caught himself glancing at Tsukki throughout the day, just to check on him, but each time was the same. His eyes were glossed over looking straight ahead, eyelids hooded, and shoulders hunched. He didn’t talk during lunch and Tadashi didn’t try to make him. He knows better than to do that, now.

It’s raining on their way to the locker rooms after school. Under his umbrella, Tsukki has his headphones on and Tadashi knows all he can do right now is be a steady presence, so he does just that.

The ever-familiar locker room is blissfully empty as Tadashi peeks his head in first to check. Hinata and Kageyama must already be in the gym, then. Today is a third year’s meeting with Coach Ukai, but will no doubt end up being a pseudo-practice so long as those two are within the same room together. He glances once more at Tsukki at the thought, who’s started silently changing into his gym clothes, so Tadashi follows suit. He notes that Tsukki placed his headphones neatly atop his clothes rather than in his bag. The more accessible the better these days, he supposes.

Tsukki sighs and Tadashi nearly freezes, wondering what kind of comment he’s going to make after a full day of silence.

Tsukki straightens up, looks directly at him for the first time all day and says, “Well, after you, captain.” He gestures toward the door, but Tadashi can do nothing but stare wide-eyed at his best friend.

The cogs in his brain click back to life and he smiles--no--he positively beams at Tsukki, who returns the tiniest quirk of his lips. 

They ready their umbrellas and head down the stairs toward the gym. Tadashi pretends not to notice that the rise and fall of Tsukki’s chest is becoming more and more strained. It’s reasonable, he thinks, considering his abrupt discontinuation of club activities toward the end of last school year.

The sound of a ball hitting the gym floor can already be heard, and Tadashi can feel each step bringing them closer also increases the tension in the air.

“Are you ready?” He asks, pausing underneath the overhang just around the corner from the door leading inside.

“Just wanna get this over with,” Tsukki replies, brows slightly furrowed, not meeting his gaze.

“Alright, I’ll go in first, okay?” Tadashi closes his umbrella as he turns the corner and steps inside the gym.

Hinata and Kageyama are rallying with each other in the corner, no surprise to him. If there’s a ball in sight, those two will have their hands on it, gym or not. It’s Yachi who spots him first, giving him a soft smile and wave which he happily returns. 

“Hey guys!” Yamaguchi calls out, wiping his shoes off on the mat.

Hinata catches the ball Kageyama just passed to him, and shouts out with a giant wave, “Hey!! Captain Yamaguchi!!” He’s grown since the first day they met, but his smile is still as bright as the sun as it’s ever been.

Tadashi chuckles. He’s going to have to get used to that.

“Hey.” Kageyama nods to him. Tadashi gives a nod back, but stops when he sees Kageyama’s shoulders tighten just a little at the same time Hinata’s sunshine smile fades from his mouth.

He can feel Tsukki behind him, who came in without a word, and the tension in the air is palpable. 

No one knows how to react. Even Yachi is exchanging worried glances between him and the others, unsure of what to say. Tadashi frantically looks up at Tsukki, but feels his chest loosen immediately when the look on his face is nothing like he worried it would be.

“What, is this a zoo? Quit the ogling,” Tsukki sneers, but gives a small nod and heads further inside. Tadashi follows.

“Might as well be!” Hinata shouts good-heartedly, “You’re basically a giraffe!”

Kageyama tries to hide a laugh but fails, earning a much deserved glare from Tsukki.

Tadashi and Yachi exchange semi-relieved glances. Well, it certainly could have been worse, but Tsukki is strong, after all. 

“Should’ve guessed you’d all be here already,” a familiar voice calls from the doorway, “Some things never change.” Coach Ukai stands in the entrance, holding a box in his hands and a smirk on his face.

Unanimous greetings echo throughout the gym and everyone makes their way toward the usual pow-wow spot. Ukai sets the box onto the foldable chair, puts a hand to his hip, and looks at the five of them warmly.

“Alright third-years, let’s not waste any time.” He opens the box and pulls out a black and orange jersey that sports a stark white number one on it. He looks straight to Tadashi who does his best to stand there with as much courage and pride as he’s learned to hold over these past two years. “Here you are, captain.” He tosses the jersey and Tadashi catches it, looking it over to really register the fact that it actually does have the number “one” written on it. It does, it really does, so he holds it tightly to his chest and smiles.

Hinata hoots and hollers, Kageyama and Yachi clap for him, and Tadashi feels so, so overwhelmed, but in the best way. The way that makes you feel on top of the world, thrusting a victory flag into the crust of the earth you know you worked so hard to be able to do.

It’s an instinct, and he curses himself for it a bit, but he glances at Tsukki who’s just keeping his eyes on the floor. It twists his gut just a little bit, but he understands. At any rate, this is his moment. He’s going to cherish it.

“Thanks everyone, I’ll do my best!” He announces, holding his head high, looking at each of them, who return trusting glances back. In this moment, he feels so lucky to have come so far with this specific group of people. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry, so he fights the rising lump in his throat.

Coach Ukai starts handing out the jerseys to the others, Tadashi still clutching his to his chest. He snaps out of his little moment at the sound of Tsukki’s small “Thanks.” which was more of a huff than an actual word. Tadashi’s gut clenches, but he knows asking is the wrong thing to do right now.

“Now then.” Coach Ukai calls attention back to himself since the murmurs between Hinata and Kageyama began to grow into some sort of spat as usual. “I won’t sugarcoat it. You’re third years now. Of course you have the choice to stick around for Spring Interhigh as your senpai before you have, and seeing as we lost to Inarizaki last year, I’m going to assume--”

“Of course.” Both Hinata and Kageyama say, cutting their coach off without a single thought.

Coach Ukai laughs, “I guess ‘assume’ wasn’t the right word. Anyway, our first focus as you know is the Miyagi Interhigh. Once we meet our new recruits later this week we’ll start analyzing strengths and weaknesses and plan practices accordingly. Got it? This is _your_ team now.”

Tadashi can’t help but feel the pressure grow with that last sentence. What if he can’t lead them properly? Can he really be the steadfast presence that Ennoshita-san was for them last year, or Daichi-san was the year before?

“I’ve already heard from Nekomata-sensei, and he’s clearing the first weekend in May for us once again, so we’ll get a good look at Nekoma’s first years right away, too.” Tadashi perks up at that, faintly hearing Hinata go on about texting Kenma to ask if he’ll show up to help like Kuroo-san did last year. 

Tadashi glances up at Tsukki immediately, who clearly heard that piece of information at least, but Tadashi can’t tell if the anxious energy radiating off of him is because of… No. Now’s not the time. He knows Tsukki can feel him looking up at him, so he turns his attention back to Coach Ukai, who clears his throat to regain them all a second time.

“Friday we’ll hold open gym for our prospective recruits, so if you care to see what we’re in for, show up around this same time, okay? That’s about all I got.”

“Coach, can we practice for a little?” Hinata and Kageyama say, at the same time, a phenomenon that phases no one at this point.

Tadashi sees Tsukki tighten up in the corner of his eye and goes into defense mode instantly. “Guys, today was only supposed to be a quick meeting…”

“Come on ~c _aptain~_ , don’t you wanna play a little too?” Hinata’s eyes are a mix between determination and fierce eagerness, and Tadashi has always had a hard time saying no to him as it is, but now the whole “captain” thing’s got him flailing. 

“F-fine. But only serve practice. We’ll start real practice next week.” Tadashi tries to make his voice sound final, brushing off the brief stutter. He looks to Coach Ukai, who gives an approving nod and adds, “Half hour max.”

Hinata pouts but Kageyama agrees, telling Hinata they can just use their ball outside afterward anyway. That seems to brighten him up, and the two of them head over to the ball basket. 

Tadashi jolts when he realizes Tsukki is no longer next to him, but has headed after the other two already. If there’s anything off, he sure is hiding it well. 

Kageyama pulls off a flawless jump serve on his first try, earning an annoyed grumble from Hinata about showing off. Hinata follows suit with a textbook serve, basic but successful, and Tsukki waits behind him, holding the ball in his hands like it’s foreign to him. Tadashi joins the lineup and hesitates one second, two, before giving a quiet, “Tsukki? It’s your turn.”

“I know,” he all but whispers.

Tsukki straightens his posture, holds the ball straight out in front of him with his left hand, right hand poised as usual, and tosses it up. There’s the familiar sound of the impact of hand vs. ball, but there was something..underwhelming about it. 

The ball hits the net, and drops to the floor.

No one says a word. Kageyama and Hinata stare from the other side of the net with their retrieved balls in hand. Yachi holds her pen above the clipboard she’s holding, completely still. 

Tsukki almost never misses serves. Ever. And yet he’s just standing there, staring down at the ball that’s slowly rolled to center court like it was the most obvious outcome he could have thought up.

“Don’t....don’t mind!” Tadashi says hesitantly.

Tsukki silently goes to grab the ball and makes room for Tadashi’s turn.

Last year he polished his jump floater even further, making it one of the most valuable weapons Karasuno has. Hinata still likes to wait on the other side of the net for his serves to try and receive them, which he has improved at by milestones.

He can’t quite focus right now, though. He can feel it. He can feel there’s something wrong, and it’s preoccupying his mind way too much to give his all, so the serve he sends over the net gives just the slightest of wobbles before it lands perfectly into Hinata’s forearms. 

At one point, there may have been a cheer, or even a chiding for going too easy, but it’s clear that everyone in the gym can feel that something is not quite right. It’s an unsettling aura, and Tadashi really just wants this half hour to go by _fast_.

They resume the regular rotation, Tadashi keeping his eyes fixed on Tsukki when he knows he won’t get caught. He can tell, even from behind, that his chest is heaving, and the alarm bells in his head are really starting to go off now. Maybe he can come up with an excuse to end early or…

An aggressive smack, almost on par with Kageyama’s jump serves, ricochets off the walls of the gym, startling everyone. The ball flies over the net, out of bounds, and hits the wall completely opposite of them.

“Easy now, Tsukishima,” Coach Ukai calls from the sidelines.

“Sorry,” he huffs, going to retrieve the ball.

“Hey guys,” Tadashi starts, “Maybe we should just call it day, alright?”

“Oi, Tsukishima, you good?”

It’s Hinata’s voice, and Tadashi’s eyes shoot like a bullet right over, finding exactly what he was afraid of.

Tsukki’s got a hand on the opposite wall, steadying himself, hunched over with gasping breaths. 

Tadashi starts running.

The gym isn’t that big. They run laps around it all the time. But right now, it feels longer than the length of twelve football fields. By the time he gets to Tsukki, he’s already slid down to the ground, head resting against the wall still gasping for air.

Both Coach Ukai and Yachi show up immediately, holding water bottles and towels and tossing around frantic mentions of calling an ambulance. 

“Everyone, back off!” Tadashi raises his voice, sternly, surprising everyone. “He’s fine. He’ll be okay, he just needs fresh air.” He puts a hand on Tsukki’s back and whispers closely to him.

“Hey. It’s me. I’m here. We’re going to go outside, okay? Just the two of us. Can you stand?”

Tsukki is shaking, but at the sound of his voice he lifts an arm up, so Tadashi loops it around his neck and pulls him onto his feet with a little help from Hinata. He gives his thanks and instantly thinks to say, “Hinata, go to the locker room. I need you to grab Tsukki’s headphones and phone, they’re on top of his clothes. Run.”

Hinata nods and darts out of the gym. 

Tadashi holds his other arm around Tsukki, who’s still shaking and gasping, and starts to guide him step by step toward the door.

It feels like an eternity, he has to repeat to the others at least three more times that no dramatics are needed, but they finally make it to the steps. It’s still raining, so he guides them to the overhang around the corner and helps Tsukki back down to the ground with him.

“Tsukki, can you hear me? You’re alright. You’re gonna be fine,” Tadashi tells him gently, with certainty.

“Ta-Tadashi, I--”

His heart clenches at the sound of his first name being used. Tsukki really isn’t in his right mind right now, or he’d double-back in embarrassment over it.

“I can’t feel my arms.” Tsukki lets out with a gasp.

“It’s okay, you’re okay, here, head between your knees, deep breaths. There you go.” Tadashi coaches him through the panic attack, something he hasn’t done for quite a while, and it never, never gets easier. But if he has to be the strong one sometimes, he will. 

Tsukki moves his right arm, still shaking, and holds it out to him, a silent request, a wordless signal. It kills Tadashi inside, because he remembers the first time. But he’s being the strong one right now, so he answers Tsukki’s request by taking his hand in his own and giving it a tight squeeze. Tsukki returns it, a sign of him trying to find feeling in his hands again. It’s a good sign. But god, Tadashi remembers.

He remembers the first time Tsukki ever had a panic attack.

It was back in middle school, when Tsukki looked up to his brother like he hung the moon. Their father had left a few years prior, so Akiteru Nii-san was the coolest person in the world to him. He was the ace of the Karasuno volleyball team and everything he ever wanted to grow up to become.

Or so he thought.

He remembers that nameless boy in class who accused Tsukki of lying when he said Akiteru Nii-san played on the team. He remembers how determined Tsukki was to see for himself, to prove to himself that his brother really was the cool, dependable, admirable person he knew he was.

Tadashi had felt pain too, the moment they both realized his brother wasn’t on the court. He felt pain because he just watched all of his best friend's dreams, everything he believed to be true come crumbling down before his very eyes. Despite being young, he could understand that pain.

Tadashi had fought off that same nameless bully who tried to rub it in their faces. It was the least he could do for Tsukki, after all. Because Tsukki just was silent. Until he wasn’t. Until he started breathing really hard and when Tadashi tried to ask what was wrong he just turned around and ran out of the gym.

When Tadashi followed, Tsukki was nowhere to be seen. He had called out and called out but got no response. It was only the sounds of his desperate breaths that gave him away, hid around the corner against the wall. He held his face in his hands and choked on tears that got in the way of the breaths he couldn’t catch. 

Tadashi ran over, shouting his name, because of course he had no idea what was going on, but neither did Tsukki. 

“Yamaguchi, I can’t breathe,” he cried out.

“What? But...but you’re breathing! Look, you’re breathing...um...really fast but you’re breathing!” Tadashi had tried to reassure him.

It didn’t work. Tsukki sat there gasping for breath wide-eyed and panicked, neither of them knowing what to do.

“Yamaguchi, am I gonna die?” Tsukki looked at him, eyes full of tears, the most vulnerable Tadashi had ever seen him. Tsukki, the coolest, strongest person ever, looked terrified beyond words.

Tadashi had started to cry too, ever empathetic, but told him, “No Tsukki, no. You’re not gonna die.”

Tsukki continued to struggle against the betrayal of his lungs, started shaking, coughing, and Tadashi had no idea what to do. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

“I can’t...feel my hands…” Tsukki was clawing at the concrete underneath him, as if he was searching for something to hold onto, so Tadashi did the first thing he could think of and grabbed his hand. The contact startled Tsukki, who shot a confused, desperate look at him, so Tadashi laced their fingers together and _squeezed_. 

“Ow!! Yamaguchi that hurts--” Tsukki coughed out, but he didn’t let go.

“You’re not gonna die,” Tadashi repeated, staring as bravely as he could into Tsukki’s eyes that were still searching for solace. “You’re gonna be okay. Cuz I’m here. Okay? I promise.”

Tsukki held his gaze throughout heaves of breaths but managed a small “okay” that held more trust than Tadashi was confident he could protect, but he did his best.

He knows Tsukki has had far worse by now, but for Tadashi, that day is still the scariest day of his life. Since then, he educated himself a lot on anxiety and panic attacks and how to support someone who’s having one, just in case. Just in case it would ever happen again.

He looks down at their interlocked fingers now and tries to count Tsukki’s breathing patterns, reminding him occasionally to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth, holding for brief intervals in between. 

After what feels like ages, Hinata comes running back, soaking wet because he didn’t bother with an umbrella, and pulls both Tsukki’s phone and headphones out from the inside of his jacket. He hands them to Tadashi with a nervous glance, but reads the situation enough to not say a word and return into the gym. 

Tadashi unlocks their hands and scrambles to connect the headphones to Tsukki’s phone. He opens his music app and hits shuffle on his recently downloaded playlist and gently places the headphones over Tsukki’s ears.

He sits there with him, watching as his breathing slowly evens out, quicker than Tadashi had thought it would, but he thanks every star in the sky for it. He looks down at Tsukki’s phone which he’s kept in his hands and reads along in his head while the lyrics play on the screen.

**_Don’t give up_ **

**_No matter what prologue you’re in_ **

**_There’s definitely a reason for it_ **

Tadashi smiles, thinking Tsukki might kill him if he knew he actually has such a cheesy song in his playlist. It’s cheesy in its purity. Motivational lyrics he’s sure Tsukki would cringe at under normal circumstances, but maybe, just maybe they’re speaking to him right now. So he lets him listen.

The song finishes and Tsukki lifts his head up and turns to Tadashi. He pulls the headphones off his head and sighs.

“I feel like shit,” he says, bluntly.

Tadashi can’t help but chuckle just a little. “I can imagine. Let’s get you home.”

“Thank you.” Tsukki looks away, guilt and a hundred other difficult emotions clearly written on his face.

“No need for thanks. Think you can walk now?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Alright, go ahead and head to the locker room, I’ll let everyone know we’re headed home for the day--”

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukki interrupts, looking directly at him now, “don’t tell them.”

“I...don’t know what you mean,” Tadashi replies, confused.

“Let them chalk it up to everything that happened with the accident. I’m...I’m embarrassed enough. I don’t want them to actually _know_ that I…” he doesn’t finish his sentence. Tadashi knows he hates openly talking about his diagnoses. 

“Okay...I won’t say anything. I’ll just tell them I’m taking you home.”

“Promise me.” Tsukki's eyes are serious.

Tadashi's mind feels like it's being pulled in a thousand different directions, but he promises him. Tsukki manages to pull himself up off the floor, grabs his umbrella from the holder by the door, and walks off toward the locker room.

Tadashi feels torn. It’s not that he feels bad for lying by hiding the truth necessarily, he just knows there’s no way any of them are going to let _that_ go without an explanation. Regardless, he pulls himself up too, and walks back inside.

Everyone is sitting back at the pow-wow corner and Tadashi puts up as good of a front as he can as he tells them “Tsukki’s fine, I’m gonna walk him home now. Please just...don’t mention this to him. Sorry.”

The others exchange worried glances but nod. Coach Ukai stands and starts walking over. Tadashi is already scrambling for an excuse to give but comes up empty.

“Yamaguchi, I know you’re trying to be a good friend right now, but if there’s something wrong I do need to know.” Tadashi wavers underneath his stern gaze.

“I understand. Can...can I update you tomorrow? It’s really not my place…” 

“That’s fine,” Coach Ukai agrees, “He’s been through hell recently, I can’t lie that I was worried whether or not he’d be able to continue. His health is the highest priority, though, make sure he knows that.”

“I agree. Thank you, Coach.” Tadashi bows and turns toward the door.

“You’ve always been one hell of a friend, I know you’re gonna be one hell of a captain, too. However this year turns out.” Tadashi freezes at those words, managing a faint “I’m doing my best,” in response before grabbing his own umbrella and heading out.

He wants to cry. He hates this, he hates watching his best friend suffer so much. He doesn’t even feel like celebrating his role of captain when Tsukki is going through all of this. He just wants him to be okay, and he fears Tsukki is only going to sink further from here.

Now is not the time for tears, because he still has to be the strong one, for just a little while longer. He meets Tsukki back in the locker room and changes quickly to not keep him waiting too long. He doesn’t feel particularly rushed though, because Tsukki’s got his headphones on and as far as he can tell his breathing is steady.

That’s how they walk the familiar way home. Tsukki, alone with his music. Tadashi, alone with a thousand worries, and several things he’s scared to say but knows he needs to. 

At their usual parting corner Tsukki protests when Tadashi insists he walks him all the way home, but doesn’t fight him hard enough. He’s too tired to try, it’s obvious. When they do make it to the front of Tsukki’s home it’s stopped raining, finally. Tadashi looks at him and motions for him to take his headphone’s off, which he begrudgingly does.

“Tsukki, I know this is the last thing you probably want to hear right now--”

“If you know that then don’t say it.” Tsukki glares, but Tadashi remains undeterred.

“I really think you should see your doctor again.”

Tension lingers in the air between them, a battle between rationality and pride, but there’s no winner in sight.

“I’m not dealing with this right now,” Tsukki says with finality and turns his back to Tadashi, walking up to his door.

Tadashi just watches him, feeling that hopelessness again. You can’t force someone to get help when they don’t want it. All you can do is hope they get it before it gets too bad.

*****

Tadashi stands at their usual corner, hidden under his umbrella and staring down the street Tsukki always walks down to meet him from. He checks his phone, noting that Tsukki is late...much later than he’s ever been. Tadashi is always the first one to get here, but it’s unlike Tsukki to keep him waiting this long.

It’s cold, and the rain definitely isn’t helping, so he starts bouncing on his toes to try and generate body heat while he waits. It helps with this feeling of anxiousness, too. 

Finally, Tsukki appears down the street, face entirely covered by his umbrella as he carelessly splashes through the puddles he usually avoids on rainy days. The closer he gets, the more it seems he’s trying to hide his face, which makes Tadashi all the more anxious to see it.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Tsukki sighs out, not making eye contact.

Tadashi squats down to peek under Tsukki’s umbrella and gasps at the dark circles and eye bags he’s met with. Understandably, Tsukki scowls down at him, then looks straight ahead and starts walking. His headphones are on so he’s already in Zero-Contact mode, and now Tadashi’s wracked with worry. Did he even sleep at all? 

The walk to school is excruciating. Tadashi wants to ask him so many things, but he knows none of them will be beneficial to Tsukki right now, and he doesn’t want to be selfish in seeking reassurance if it’ll cause him any more grief. So, he just doesn’t say a word. Not even when he notices the elongated rise and fall of Tsukki’s chest as they get to school and walk through the halls to homeroom. They make their way to their seats in silence, and the school day begins.

Not one hour into the first lecture, Tsukki raises a quiet hand.

“Do you have a question, Tsukishima-kun?” Ikuko-sensei asks, seeing as she was mid-sentence when she noticed his hand.

“May I use the restroom?” He asks flatly.

Under normal circumstances, a request out of the blue like that this so early in the school day would definitely get rejected. But Tadashi sees the same thing in Ikuko-sensei’s eyes that he knows is reflected in his own.

“You may,” she replies, watching him closely as he hurries out of the classroom.

Tadashi stands a little too quickly, one hand slamming on his desk and the other raised high in the air, “Ikuko-sensei, may I please go too?”

It must be their mutual expressions that communicate the silent understanding, because she allows him out as well. He feels the entire classroom’s eyes on his back as he all but runs out of the room and toward the closest bathroom.

He collects himself before opening the door, the last thing he wants to do is startle Tsukki on top of everything else. He can hear him as he quietly walks inside, his heaving breaths resonating throughout the entire bathroom. There’s no one else in the bathroom right now, thank god, so Tadashi moves closer to the stall Tsukki is in.

“Tsukki, it’s me. Are you alright?”

“Get out, Yamaguchi,” Tsukki chokes out, definitely angry he was followed.

“I’m sorry, but do you need anything?” Tadashi doesn’t know what to do. He can’t do anything right now, this all feels so much different than yesterday. There’s hostility in the air now, he’s walking on eggshells desperate to help but he’s just making things worse.

“What I _need_ ,” he says between strained breaths, “is to be _alone_.”

Tadashi steps away from the stall. He’s out of options. He can tell they’ve reached the point where there’s not a single thing he can offer Tsukki right now that will get through to him. It’s frustrating beyond words, because the only answer is professional help but he just won’t _listen!!_

When the strong break, they break into a million pieces.

Tadashi is desperately trying to pick up every single piece, but he can't. It's useless, they’re everywhere, scattered far and wide in places he doesn’t even know where to look. As much as it kills him, he knows he can’t put Tsukki back together. Not by himself. It’s going to take a lot of time, and a lot more hands to pick up the pieces.

He returns to class and does his best to focus through the rest of the lecture despite the fact that Tsukki never makes another appearance. 

Lunchtime rolls around and he’s still nowhere to be seen. Ikuko-sensei calls Tadashi to her desk as students start their uproar of freedom and he thinks he already knows what she’s going to tell him.

“Yamaguchi-kun, you are close with Tsukishima-kun, right?”

Tadashi blushes a little at that, recalling the dramatics he caused earlier, but nods his head. “Yes, we’re childhood friends.”

“I see. Tsukishima-kun has gone home for the day. According to the office, there is no one from his home that can come pick up his belongings. Would you be willing to bring them home to him?”

Of course...Tsukki’s mother has probably only just gotten to sleep after her shift and Akiteru Nii-san can’t exactly drive at the moment…

“Yes, of course I can do that,” Tadashi replies. At least there’s no club activities until Friday’s recruitment so he doesn’t have to worry about that.

“That would be much appreciated, thank you,” she replies in kind.

“No problem!” Tadashi tries his best at a smile. It isn’t very convincing. 

He returns to his desk and pulls out his bento from his bag, reaching for his phone as well.

**12:19**

**Me: Hey, I’ll be bringing your stuff to your place after school**

He sits there, eyes moving from his phone, to his bento, back to his phone. He has no appetite right now anyway, why bother when the only feeling in his stomach right now is dread.

**12:21**

**Tsukki: Leave it on the porch. Sorry.**

Tadashi’s heart sinks. He puts his bento back in his bag and puts his head down for the rest of lunch. 

There’s nothing more he can do.

The next day, Tsukki doesn’t show up to their meeting spot. He doesn’t even text him that he isn’t coming. He just leaves Tadashi standing there in the rain for twenty minutes before he gives up and starts walking to school alone, choking back tears of frustration and anger, but above all, worry.

The rest of the day is a blur.

He gets home and throws himself onto his bed. Tomorrow is the new recruits open gym, but the last thing he can think about right now is volleyball. What kind of captain is he?

_“You’ve always been one hell of a friend, I know you’re gonna be one hell of a captain, too.”_

Coach Ukai’s words echo in his head and he denies them all. What kind of friend is he if he can’t even get his best friend the help he desperately needs?

He hears his phone buzz in his bag. If this has anything to do with tomorrow he might start cursing the universe like Tsukki always does.

**15:48**

**Tsukki: I went to the doctor today.**

Tadashi stares at the screen in disbelief and reads over the message one more, two more, three more times.

**Tsukki: She put me back on stuff. She also wrote up a request for stay-at-home study for the foreseeable future. That includes club activities too...I’m sorry.**

He doesn’t know when the tears started pouring, but his phone screen is too blurry for him to read anymore.

Relief.

He’s not crying because Tsukki can’t go to school or continue club activities, of course not. He is just so, _so relieved._ He’s beyond proud, but he knows he can’t tell him that. It doesn’t change the fact that he is. He knows how hard it is to face the seemingly unfaceable and give in to the help you wish you didn’t need. Tadashi is just so happy he did. He feels like he can breathe again.

A few tissues later, he manages to stop crying enough to finally type out a response.

**15:52**

**Me: Please don’t apologize. I’m so happy you saw your doctor. Your health comes before anything else. I’m really proud of you.**

Oops, he said it anyway. That’s fine, Tsukki needs to know that what he did was something worth being proud of, whether he wants to believe it or not.

**15:53**

**Tsukki: Don’t say cheesy shit**

**Me: Ever at your side!!(*^▽^*)**

**Tsukki: You’re not invincible to the block button, you know.**

Tadashi laughs at that, then lets out a long sigh of relief. He can feel the pieces he’s tried to pick up lift off his shoulders as they form themselves into their familiar banter, the smallest sense of normalcy, but it’s a step forward.

He knows in his heart that there will be many steps to come. Some forward, some back, but he can only go forward from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: With...STORY - F-LAGS (lyrics translated)  
> I've been anxiously waiting to post this chapter for four weeks now. Please let me know if you enjoyed it. <3


	6. gotta let it happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo Tetsurou, with an infectious smile as devilish as his wit.   
> Kuroo Tetsurou, with ridiculous hair as un-tamable as his teasing.  
> Kuroo Tetsurou, with a heart far bigger than you’d ever guess by the looks of him.  
> Kuroo Tetsurou, who somehow, for some reason, cares about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> some mentions of attacks but nothing explicit!
> 
> Huge thank you to everyone reading and commenting so far, I adore you all so much <3

**_May 22nd, Morning_ **

It’s a strange thing, time. Some days, hours move past without even thinking about it. Others, they drag on, slowly eating away at Kei, draining him in ways he can’t quite describe. Days themselves pass to the point where he can’t even keep track of what day it is aside from Tuesday’s, because he has to see his doctor. Wednesday’s too, he supposes, since that’s when Yamaguchi brings him his new schoolwork. Aside from that though, it doesn’t matter, because each new day feels exactly the same.

Every morning Kei wakes up and nothing has changed. The pills are still on the table waiting for him, the anchor placed on his chest still won’t let him breathe properly, and Akiteru is still in a wheelchair. He doesn’t know why he thought he would be “better” by now. Whatever “better” even means. The cold reality is it’s just not that simple. This kind of thing doesn’t just go away. It lives in you, a demon that strikes as it pleases, never giving the decency of a warning.

If he’s honest, it’s incredibly hard to find the desire to keep fighting when you seem to be going nowhere. He’ll never tell that to anyone, though. He doesn’t want to make people worry more than they already are. 

He feels like he’s on autopilot. A shell of himself simply getting by on instinct because whatever fire he had inside of him believing in life died out months ago.

He’s just ashes now, and how are you supposed to bring life back from that?

Lying on his bed without the motivation to get up now if ever, he holds his phone above his face watching Kodzuken’s newest upload. It doesn’t help that he’s at a particularly tense scene in the game, but when his phone buzzes and dings with a text notification, it quite literally jumps out of his hands. 

His reflexes seem to be fine still, considering he has the instinct to move his head to the side as his phone comes falling back down at his face. 

“Jesus Christ,” he curses. He reaches by his neck to retrieve the offending device and pauses the video to check the notification.

**9:20**

**Kuroo-san: tsukkiiiiiiiii**

Something in his gut flips, but he pretends it didn’t.

**Me: good morning, kuroo-san**

**Kuroo-san: do you ever have one of those days**

**Kuroo-san: where you just have to stop and look at yourself and think**

**Kuroo-san: am i That Person who struggles with simple tasks**

**Me: i**

**Me: no**

**9:21**

**Kuroo-san: like i thought it was bokuto this whole time**

**Kuroo-san: but maybe it IS me**

**Me: you can’t even manage your own hair, so**

**Kuroo-san: YOU’RE NOT HELPING**

Kei absolutely does not smile.

**Me: sorry, what is it you’re struggling with exactly?**

**Kuroo-san: i made tacos instead of pancakes.**

**Me: i’m...sorry?**

**9:22**

**[img file]**

What Kei is looking at certainly is perplexing. Clearly, they are pancakes. However, they are indeed shaped like tacos. He holds in a laugh as a burst of messages immediately follow the photo.

**Kuroo-san: i was trying to move the pancake with my spatula**

**Kuroo-san: ya know like to transfer it to the plate**

**Kuroo-san: and i accidentally flung it off my spatula**

**Kuroo-san: onto the floor**

**Kuroo-san: like a goddamn frisbee**

**Me: nice toss**

**9:23**

**Kuroo-san: under any other circumstances i would laugh at that.**

Kei certainly does not find any value in making Kuroo Tetsurou laugh. Absolutely none. Whatsoever. Which is exactly why he is pretending not to smile at that message.

**Kuroo-san: anyway, i threw the Floor Pancake away and on my second attempt was extra careful but because i went so slow it just….flopped over like that. like a taco.**

**Me: okay so are pancakes your nemesis now or something**

**Kuroo-san: i think they know i prefer french toast. and waffles. literally anything but pancakes really but i don’t have a waffle maker nor bread for french toast**

**Me: pancakes and waffles for me are on equal standing but french toast reigns superior.**

**Kuroo-san: holy shit**

**Kuroo-san: i actually agree with you**

**9:24**

**Me: unless**

**Me: the pancakes have strawberries on them**

**Kuroo-san: ...we were so close**

**Me: everything's better with strawberries**

**Kuroo-san: fine i’m putting you on pancake duty**

There’s that flip again.

**9:25**

**Me: who says i’m making you pancakes?**

**Kuroo-san: i do ;)**

Kei stares at the message until he’s ultimately scowling at it. 

**Me: hope you like strawberries, then.**

After hitting send, Kei puts his phone on silent, flips himself over, and groans into his pillow.

The ashes are warm.

*****

**_May 23rd, Afternoon_ **

Kei holds his face in his hands as he stares down at the equations on the paper before him. On a good day his brain would have no problem with this assignment. However, the night before wasn’t exactly kind to him, and he’s got the headache and exhaustion to prove it. He’s been looping his favorite study BGM, so he closes his eyes and lets himself get lost in the sound for just a moment.

_ Ping! _

Kei jolts in his chair, swearing under his breath because  _ why does he keep accidentally turning the notification sound on god dammit?! _

**15:23**

**Kuroo-san: tsukki, on a scale of 1-10 how well do you think you can tolerate nonsense right now**

**Me: ...even on my best day i’m a solid 0**

**Kuroo-san: idk why i even asked**

**Me: more importantly, why DID you ask?**

**15:24**

**Kuroo-san: you’re about to find out**

Kei has absolutely zero idea what Kuroo means by this, but somehow he’s extremely alert and every nerve in his body is on edge in a way that’s not necessarily unpleasant. He doesn’t reply, expecting an image file or  _ something, _ but nothing comes.

That is, until his phone buzzes to alert a different notification.

**15:26**

**Bokuto-san: TSSUUUKKKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

Oh, god.

Before he even opens the text from Bokuto, he sends one more to Kuroo for good measure.

**Me: you know, i already have a headache as it is.**

**Kuroo-san: betting you right now it’ll make you smile.**

Make him  _ smile? _ He switches to his chat with Bokuto.

**15:27**

**Me: ...Hello, Bokuto-san**

**Bokuto-san: HEY HEY HEY TSUKKI GUESS WHAT**

Kei sighs to himself. Why can he hear all of these messages?

**Me: What?**

**Bokuto-san: ME AND AKAASHI ARE PARENTS**

_ Huh?!  _ Okay, his mind is fucking with him. Is he even awake right now? 

**Me: I’m sorry?**

**Bokuto-san:**

**[img file]**

**[img file]**

**[img file]**

Curse Kuroo Tetsurou, because against all his might, Kei smiles.

Flooding his screen are photos of Bokuto holding a dwarf hamster in his hands. One shows it crawling up his arm, and another of it eventually resting on his shoulder as Bokuto seems to be letting out the loudest of laughs. The hamster is interestingly marked, sporting one mark around it’s left eye shaped somewhat like a heart. It is very cute, he can’t lie. Plus, seeing the joy in Bokuto’s face stirs the smallest amount of second-hand happiness even in Kei’s cold heart.

**15:29**

**Me: Congratulations, you two**

**Bokuto-san: THANKS :D His name is Ace!!!!!**

Kei rolls his eyes. He could have predicted that one. Some other time he’ll have to ask Akaashi how this even happened.

**15:30**

**Kuroo-san: well?**

**Me: well what?**

**Kuroo-san: did you smile?**

Kei scowls. Dammit.

**Me: you know, we didn’t actually bet anything.**

**Kuroo-san: true, but i still want to know**

_ Why? _

**Me: fine. yes. i smirked. briefly.**

**15:31**

**Kuroo-san: then i’m glad.**

The ashes are warm again. It’s unsettling. Kei doesn’t understand any of this. Rather, he’s refusing to, but that’s not the point.

**Me: i’m confused, you gave me a heads up just to bet i’d smile and be able to confirm afterward?**

**Kuroo-san: precisely.**

Kei pauses. He types something, but immediately erases it. Then starts typing again, pauses again, but hits send anyway.

**15:32**

**Me: ...why?**

**Kuroo-san: i’ve always been this kind**

Okay, Kei  _ really  _ rolls his eyes hard at that.

**Me: not that line again**

**Kuroo-san: oya? you’ve got quite the memory, tsukki ;)**

His face heats up at that. Is that a weird thing to remember? Kei remembers...a lot about his interactions with Kuroo, actually. 

**Me: thank you, now answer my question properly, please**

**15:34**

**Kuroo-san: what, am i not allowed to care about my favorite country bird?**

This warmth is  _ really _ starting to be difficult to ignore.

Kei always gets really uncomfortable and awkward when his brother or Yamaguchi show affection toward him or express concern. He’s never dealt with that kind of thing well. He’d prefer if no one paid him any mind and just let him be.

So why is his chest swollen with an entirely different feeling right now? It’s awkward, yeah, but he can’t say he’s outright rejecting the feeling, either.

He’s not naive. He’s been...aware of this since the very first summer training camp. But he’s kept it locked away, tucked far, far away in a secret box because there’s no way he can let himself…

**15:35**

**Me: well, thank you. for caring about me.**

**Kuroo-san: thanks for letting me care about you.**

He buries his face into his hands again, thoughts as far away from those math equations and last night’s struggle as they could possibly be.

The ashes flicker.

*****

**_May 24th, Evening_ **

It is 7pm. 

It is 7pm on a Saturday evening and Kei has done absolutely  _ nothing. _

Yamaguchi offered to come over, which he declined because he’s been teetering on the edge of an attack since he woke up. Akiteru forcing him out of his room to join him for lunch has only pushed him closer, so he spent the rest of the day curled up in his chair on YouTube.

It’s not like he’s watched the clock all day waiting for anything.

He definitely didn’t have his phone on him at all times, checking it seemingly every 5 minutes for a notification that never came.

He can feel that secret "box" has been kicked ajar and the effects of it are maddening. How pathetic can you be, waiting like a lonely puppy by the window for a message from That Person?

He hates himself every day, but he hates himself a little extra right now.

He can’t. He simply can’t let this happen. If he allows himself to have even the smallest amount of hope for this pathetic crush he’s had for almost two years now, it’s only going to end up poorly.

Too bad he’s already attached to the point of opening the chat screen, hovering his shaky thumbs above the keys.

_ What the fuck are you doing? _

**19:08**

**Me: Kuroo-san, hello. Sorry to bother you, if you’re busy please pay no mind to this message.**

_ That was painfully formal and extremely awkward. Great job. _

Kei’s inner monologue gets interrupted by the near immediate “read” signal appearing under his message. He holds his breath.

**Kuroo-san: heyy tsukki! what’s up? no i’m not busy, just got home actually. was gonna annoy you after i made dinner~**

He was going to…?

Well, now Kei feels stupid and needy and gross. But, dare he say it, _ the god damn butterflies  _ in his stomach are overpowering all of those feelings.

**Me: you mean after you’ve boiled your water for your cup noodle.**

**19:09**

**Kuroo-san: ….listen.**

**Me: i’m listening.**

**Kuroo-san: y’know what, that doesn’t matter! what matters is, hell has frozen over.**

**Me: pardon?**

**Kuroo-san: you texted me first.**

**Kuroo-san: i was convinced that would only happen when hell freezes over so, the time hath come.**

Kei can feel his entire face burst aflame in a single second. There is...a lot to unpack here. Kuroo has been waiting for him to text first? How long has he thought about that?  _ Why  _ has he been thinking about that? Why does Kei texting first even mean anything?

At this point, Kuroo has taken a crowbar to Kei’s box and thrusted it completely open. So, what now? Run to close it again? Open it further? 

Minutes pass in a mental battle that ends with Kei leaving the box untouched the way it is.

**19:11**

**Me: i could say the same, y’know.**

**Me: “the day Kuroo-san doesn’t bug me is when hell freezes over.”**

**Me: thought for a while it had**

**Kuroo-san: awww tsukki, did you miss me :’)**

_ Yes. _

**Me: i retract my first text, hell is still burning happily**

**Kuroo-san: hey hey that’s no fair!! there’s gotta be a reason you texted me in the first place. everything good?**

Nothing is good! His chest is heavy, he’s only eaten a salad all day, his head is throbbing, and his secret box has been forced open against his will. And it’s  _ because  _ nothing is good that he texted Kuroo in the first place, because he is becoming the only good part of Kei’s otherwise miserable days.

_ God dammit. _

**19:12**

**Me: it’s just been a bit of a rough day, i guess**

**Kuroo-san: is there anything i can do?**

Kei hates this question. He hates asking things of people as it is, so to be literally  _ asked _ to ask for something is disgusting in its vulnerability. Plus, he doesn’t even know what he wants from Kuroo right now. Well, that’s not entirely accurate, but he doesn’t know what “realistic” thing he wants from Kuroo right now.

**Kuroo-san: can i make a suggestion? sorry if you were typing**

**Me: what were you thinking?**

**19:13**

**Kuroo-san: let’s skype! you don’t have to talk about anything at all if you don’t want to! just hang out, if that’s cool with you?**

Kei has to force himself not to give his response immediately.

**19:14**

**Me: sure, that sounds good. i’m already at my desk actually, so i’m ready whenever you are.**

Kei jolts when the familiar Skype jingle blasts through his headphones. Even when you’re expecting a call it’s startling, but he definitely wasn’t expecting this  _ right away. _

He hits the Accept Call button and adjusts his glasses, sitting up a little straighter.

He’s met with exactly what he was expecting, but it sends an electric shock throughout his entire body nonetheless. 

Kuroo, arms crossed and resting easy on his desk. He’s sporting a black V-neck that should absolutely be considered illegal. Okay, the V-neck is a misdemeanor, but the smile he gives when Kei’s camera finally turns on is the highest of felonies. 

“Hey, Tsukki!” he chirps, still smiling.

For a moment Kei just gapes because he hasn’t quite registered anything that has happened in the past five minutes, and now Kuroo is talking and smiling on his screen..? 

“Hey,” he manages.

Kuroo’s smile fades and Kei immediately realizes he’s probably emanating alarming levels of “not okay”, so he clears his throat and offers a half-convincing, “How was your day?”.

Kuroo’s face brightens up again. “It was fun! Kenma and I went out to Sky Tree ‘cause they’re doing this collab for a game he likes and…”

Kei puts all of his focus into listening to Kuroo telling him about his day. He nods when appropriate, reacts when he has genuine ones to give, and forgets everything else. He thinks that right now, there is nothing in the world he would rather be listening to. Kuroo’s voice is like a song that overwhelms him to the core, fills the void that is his body and soul with life. It’s like a drug, really. More powerful than the shit he’s forced to take everyday, because even on those meds he still suffers and suffers and suffers. When he’s talking to Kuroo though, suddenly he can breathe again. His head clears, his chest lightens, he  _ feels _ again.

Ah, dammit. Is he really going to let this happen?

Kuroo Tetsurou, with an infectious smile as devilish as his wit. 

Kuroo Tetsurou, with ridiculous hair as un-tamable as his teasing.

Kuroo Tetsurou, with a heart far bigger than you’d ever guess by the looks of him.

Kuroo Tetsurou, who somehow, for some reason, cares about  _ him. _

_ Yeah,  _ Kei thinks to himself,  _ yeah, I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of forever talking to this guy. _

He can feel the warmth in his gut spread throughout his whole body until it reaches his face. Throughout the conversation he had assumed his usual posture of feet-on-chair, head-on-knees, so he tries to hide his blush with the sleeves of his hoodie.

“And that’s about it really! Came home after that, that’s when I heard from you, and now we’re here.” Kuroo wraps up his story, putting his face in his palm.

_ And now we’re here… _

“Thank you,” Kei says, muffled through his sleeves

Kuroo quirks his eyebrows. It’s cu--Kei cuts his thought off there. Nope, not gonna happen.

“For what?” 

_ Where do I even start? _

“I uh,” Kei pauses, “I had a bad day today, so hearing about your day made me feel better, I guess.”

“You guess?” Kuroo smiles, raising an eyebrow. Damn him. 

Kei counters the expression with his own frown. 

Kuroo laughs at that. A very lighthearted, genuinely good-natured laugh. It’s…it’s very...c-word.

“It’s okay, Tsukki. I had a feeling. I think I can read you pretty well by now, you know.” There’s something in Kuroo’s eyes as he says that, staring straight into the camera. It makes every hair on Kei’s body stand up straight. He usually hates being read, hates being analyzed. But now, he just feels...seen. Kei realizes then that it’s because he trusts Kuroo a little differently than everyone else.

He trusts Kuroo because he has done nothing but make him feel safe, make him feel like he isn’t just this traumatized person everyone has to walk on egg-shells around. Maybe it’s just the distance between them that’s causing this illusion, Kei isn’t sure, but he is sure that he wants to savor it.

Kei gets so lost in his own head he forgets to respond, which makes Kuroo adjust himself and lean a little bit closer to his camera. 

“Tsukki,” he starts, in  _ that _ voice again, “I just want you to know...I’m never going to make you talk about anything you don’t want to. But at the same time, I want you to know I am always willing to listen. Not sure if that means anything, but I wanted to say it.”

Kei lets in a small gasp. No one has ever approached him like this before. It’s always been “Tsukki, talk.” “Tsukki why aren’t you talking.” “Tsukki you have to talk!” No one has ever given him the option of talking when  _ he _ wants to.

“No that…means a lot, actually.” Kei’s voice wavers just the smallest bit, and Kuroo smiles ever so softly at him, letting out his own sigh of relief.

“I’m really glad to hear that.”

“I don’t really want to talk about anything right now but,” Tsukki hesitates, because if he says this he knows he’s opening that box completely on his own accord, “if I do, I’ll let you know.”

“Sounds good.” Kuroo smiles, then completely switches gears into a sort of bashful expression. He scratches the back of his neck as he says, “By the way...this is just an idea, and if it’s weird just pretend I didn’t say it okay? But if you ever want company, even just while doing schoolwork or doing nothing in particular, I’m always free to Skype with you after my classes.”

Kei can’t help it, he laughs at just how lame that approach was.

“Don’t laugh at me!!” Kuroo whines, crossing his arms and pouting at the camera.

He’s really not helping, because that just makes Kei laugh harder, and he knows Kuroo broke a smile, too.

“Sorry it’s just, I’ve never seen this side of you before,” Kei manages after calming down his laughter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?! I’ve always--”

“--been this kind, I know, Kuroo-san.”

They stare at each other's reflection on the screen for a few seconds before they both start laughing.

“Was it really that lame?” Kuroo laments, returning his cheek to the palm of his hand. (Kei really wishes he’d stop doing that).

Kei really wants to mess with him right now, but something tells him Kuroo really, really meant that, and even Kei isn’t that much of an asshole.

“It just surprised me is all. I’ll take you up on that.”

Kuroo’s eyes light up in a way that make fireworks go off in Kei’s chest. “Really?” he asks, genuinely seeking an answer. Honestly, did he really think Kei would deny him?

“Really.”

Another pause of just the two of them reading the other’s expressions on their respective screens. Kei really wants to know what Kuroo is thinking about right now, but he doesn’t have the courage to ask. Not yet.

They spend another half hour together talking about nothing, but in that time created an atmosphere that can only be described as comfortable. Comfortable silence, comfortable conversation, comfortable laughter. Kei doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt any sense of comfort like this, and there’s definitely the persecutor side of his brain warning him about getting too attached, but he ignores it. 

Kuroo eventually brings their call to a close because he never did get to that cup noodle, and Kei has gotten tired as it is.

When they say their goodbyes, Kei can’t bring himself to hit the “End Call” button, so he waits there returning Kuroo’s wave until he ends the call for them.

Kei shuts his laptop and rolls his chair back just a bit. He inhales and exhales,  _ hard,  _ coming to terms with the hurricane of feelings that are brewing inside of him. 

His phone buzzes and he grabs for it immediately.

**21:08**

**Kuroo-san: goodnight, tsukki! talk to you tomorrow? ^^**

Warmth. So much warmth.

**Me: goodnight, kuroo-san. yeah, talk to you then**

**Kuroo-san: sleep well :)**

The ashes spark.

Kei is tired, but not quite sleepy enough to fall asleep yet, so he puts his headphones on and goes through the night-time meds routine before lying himself down.

Sometimes there are feelings only music can describe, and he laughs to himself at the next song that plays on shuffle because it speaks to him on levels that need no explanation.

**_It’s just a spark_ **

**_But it’s enough to keep me going_ **

**_And when it’s dark out, no one’s around_ **

**_It keeps glowing_ **

Kei is glowing.

*****

**_May 28th, Evening_ **

**17:45**

**Kuroo-san: god, i hate this next class**

**Me: which class is it again?**

**Kuroo-san: ancient history -_-**

**Me: oh? i love history**

**Kuroo-san: you /would/ love history.**

**17:46**

**Me: what’s that supposed to mean?**

**Kuroo-san: ya know, the whole dinosaur thing.**

**Me: that is a fraction of history certainly not being covered in your class. i like all history.**

**Kuroo-san: nerd**

**Me: oh, are we name calling now?**

**Kuroo-san: wait no...i’m kidding. low-key scared of what name you’d come up with lol**

**Me: as you should be.**

**Kuroo-san: scary tsukki D:**

**Kuroo-san: ok gotta go, i’ll be home afterward, skype around 7:30?**

**17:47**

**Me: sounds good. have fun, don’t fall asleep**

**Kuroo-san: tempting >.<**

Kei puts his phone down on his desk, grinning to himself. This is just about how the past 4 days have gone for them. Texting throughout the day, Skyping when they’re both free. (Rather, when Kuroo is free, since Kei is practically always free). It has scattered rays of light throughout Kei’s days that he hasn’t felt in a  _ long _ time. In fact, he hasn’t had a panic attack since Friday night. 

When he told Dr. Mishiya this yesterday, she was surprised but delighted. She made no changes to Kei’s prescriptions for this week, and he was beyond relieved about that. It’s Wednesday now, and this is his longest streak of no attacks since all of this started.

Oh, shit. It’s Wednesday.

Yamaguchi will be coming by to give him his new week’s worth of school work and taking his completed work back. He usually arrives around 6:45 so he can probably shoo him off in time to Skype with Kuroo…

His stomach twists. Well, that’s shitty of him. He hasn’t seen Yamaguchi in two weeks, is he really going to cut their meet-up that short just to Skype with Kuroo for the 5th day in a row? He’ll just play it by ear. If Yamaguchi seems like he really wants to stay for a while he’ll just text Kuroo and ask to push the time back a bit.

Regardless, that’s a problem for 6:45 Kei. 5:48 Kei adjusts his headphones, and resumes watching Kodzuken’s new video. The mad-man wasn’t just satisfied with completing that Outlast DLC on Insane Mode, now he’s gone and tried to speed-run it. 

Time passes easily watching Kodzu...Kenma. He feels kind of weird referring to him by his actual name now, despite his name coming up in conversation constantly while talking to Kuroo. As if on cue the video finishes just as Kei gets a notification from Yamaguchi.

**18:40**

**Tadashi: Be there in 5!**

**Me: Alright**

Kei has known Yamaguchi for almost ten years. His texts are always riddled with enthusiasm, emojis, and “lol”s, so this unusually straightforward message sends a pool of dread straight to Kei’s gut. Is he mad at him..? It’s true he hasn’t exactly been keeping in contact lately but that’s not unusual for him and Yamaguchi is always understanding of that. No, it’s probably volleyball stuff. Now that he thinks about it, Kei doesn’t really know anything about how Yamaguchi’s reign as captain has been going. He’s just...never asked. 

Kei is a pretty shitty friend, isn’t he.

He sits anxiously in his chair waiting, swirling side to side in soothing motions. His chest feels like it’s caved in out of nowhere.

The doorbell rings. Kei can already feel something isn’t right, and that nearly stops him from getting up to answer it. He does anyway, obviously.

When he approaches the door, he takes one final deep breath before grabbing for the doorknob and opening it for Yamaguchi.

“Hey Tsukki,” he says, and there is  _ definitely _ something off about him.

Kei furrows his brows. “Hey,” is all he manages.

“Um, I have your stuff, but can I come in? Just for a few minutes is fine…” Yamaguchi is avoiding his gaze.  _ Why?  _

“Uh, yeah, of course.” Kei holds the door open wider and lets him in, eyeing him the entire time, trying to sense where this tension is coming from. He seems stressed, definitely. Exhausted, probably. But there’s something else lingering here. Anxious energy that is only fueling the brewing storm inside of Kei.

Yamaguchi removes his shoes and Kei silently leads them into his bedroom. He grabs his file of work immediately and holds it out to Yamaguchi, who looks at it for a second before registering why exactly he came and starts rustling in his bag to pull out the new file.

“Sorry.” Yamaguchi awkwardly laughs, “Here you go, I’ll take these.”

He still isn’t making eye contact as they exchange folders and it is bothering Kei immensely. He nearly has to hold a hand to his chest to physically push on it to try and relieve the pressure that’s building up. 

“What’s up with you?” Kei blurts out, a little more cross than intended.

Yamaguchi jolts, gripping onto the straps of his backpack,  _ finally  _ looking up at Kei.

“Huh? Oh, uh, just...club stuff,” 

There’s more. Kei knows it. “Did something happen?”

A pause. A  _ long _ pause. 

“Tsukki I,” Yamaguchi takes a deep breath and meets his gaze with a serious expression. “I have to tell you something.”

Kei can feel his gut drop completely out of his body and onto the floor. That is a string of words  _ no one  _ ever wants to hear.

“Well then, spit it out,” Kei nearly hisses. His mind is racing a million miles a minute and if he doesn’t get answers  _ now _ he is absolutely going to start panicking.

Yamaguchi takes another deep breath in and stands his ground.

“I had to tell the team.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Last Hope - Paramore  
> Taco Pancake incident based on a true story
> 
> Comments are always very much appreciated <3


	7. all time low

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You what?” Kei’s voice is as icy as his stare.  
> Yamaguchi takes a step back, his brave act faltering for half a second. “I had no choice, Tsukki. Please hear me out--”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> angst  
> self-hatred  
> onset of a panic attack

**_May 28th, Evening_ **

“Tsukki I,” Yamaguchi takes a deep breath and meets his gaze with a serious expression. “I have to tell you something.”

Kei can feel his gut drop completely out of his body and onto the floor. That is a string of words  _ no one  _ ever wants to hear.

“Well then, spit it out,” Kei nearly hisses. His mind is racing a million miles a minute and if he doesn’t get answers  _ now  _ he is absolutely going to start panicking.

Yamaguchi takes another deep breath in and stands his ground.

“I had to tell the team.”

The floor collapses underneath Kei and he’s spiraling. Spiraling round and round until the weight of those words ignite an explosion of anger that shoots him straight back up to the surface.

“You  _ what _ ?” Kei’s voice is as icy as his stare.

Yamaguchi takes a step back, his brave act faltering for half a second. “I had no choice, Tsukki. Please hear me out--”

“You told the team  _ what _ exactly?” Kei spits out at him, subconsciously taking steps forward until he’s trapped him against the wall.

Yamaguchi sighs. So this is why he seemed so off. He had this atomic bomb to drop and knew it wasn’t going to end well.

“I told them that you struggle with anxiety and panic attacks, and that after everything that happened back in February it’s been a lot worse and that’s why you’ve been out--”

Kei yanks at the collar of Yamaguchi’s shirt, cutting him off with a gasp.

“You  _ promised,”  _ Kei hisses.

“I  _ KNOW  _ Tsukki, but- _ -” _

_ “YOU PROMISED ME!”  _ Kei’s voice cracks. His grip on Yamaguchi’s shirt tightens despite his entire body shaking with anger. Or maybe it’s panic, he can’t tell.

Yamaguchi grabs at Kei’s hand on his collar and firmly says, “Let go of me.” His eyes don’t reflect fear. They don’t reflect remorse either, and that pisses Kei off even more.

Kei rips his hand away with a “tch,” and turns his back on him. He can’t think straight. He’s literally seeing red right now and his breaths are hitching worse than they have in days. He remembers this feeling. He’s felt it before.

Betrayal. 

Broken promises.

Kei’s been fooled once, but that shame wasn’t on him. This second time around however, it absolutely is. What an idiot he was, to think he could put trust in anyone about this.

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi calls out, softly, “please try to calm down and listen to me. I can explain.”

“I don’t want your fucking explanations,” Kei hisses under his breath, refusing to look at him. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done. They know. I don’t give a shit what your reasoning was.”

“Please, just hear me out. The Miyagi Interhigh Qualifiers are next week and--”

“I am so fucking SICK of hearing about volleyball. As if that guilt trip is going to work on me, as if it’s going to fix me. Kageyama tried the same fucking thing, I don’t want to hear it.” Kei chokes all of that out in one breath and now he  _ really _ can’t breathe. He pads over to his bed and sits on it, putting his face in his hands to block out Yamaguchi, block out the universe.

“No one is trying to guilt trip you Tsukki, what are you talking about?” 

“Yeah right, so--”

“LISTEN TO ME!” Yamaguchi raises his voice, and it’s enough to startle Kei out from the solace he created in the palms of his hands. “It’s because the Miyagi Qualifiers are next week that Coach Ukai had to fill out paperwork to excuse a starting member from attendance. Obviously, he needed to know the reason.”

“So you should have just told Coach Ukai! Why the fuck did you tell the whole  _ team?!”  _ Kei matches Yamaguchi’s volume. His room is spinning, but he’s not going to back down from this. 

Yamaguchi takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before speaking again. “You don’t need me to tell you to know everyone is worried about you. After what happened, everyone asks about you daily. Everyone just wants you to be okay, and by keeping them in the dark it only made them worry more. You have no idea how broken Kageyama came to me the day after he met with you. He practically begged me to tell him what was wrong with you because it was bothering him so much.”

Kei doesn’t respond. People are worried about him, wow, what breaking news that is. Obviously he’s known that. But this is  _ his _ life,  _ his _ problem, and no one’s business but  _ his. _

Yamaguchi continues, “Today we had a briefing meeting and Hinata just couldn’t accept you not joining us for the tournament. I’m the captain now, in case you’ve forgotten. It has broken my heart every single practice to have to lie to everyone’s faces by telling them you’re fine and that it’s nothing serious. I just couldn’t do it anymore, and I knew no one would think any differently--”

“Oh, is that so?” Kei almost laughs. “Is that why the gym was completely  _ silent _ when I walked in for the first time in over a month? Is that why no one knew what to even say to me? And that was just with knowing about the accident, not...not this, too.”

“That’s...that’s a given, isn’t it? But that’s not what I mean!” Yamaguchi flails his hands helplessly, trying to get his point across. “I meant no one is going to think  _ less _ of you because of this.”

“How nice,” Kei says with mirth, “What a sentimental thought. But clearly you didn’t stop to think how this would affect how  _ I _ think of me.”

Yamaguchi drops his arms to his sides and for once, seems at a loss for words.

“Right. Didn’t think so.” Kei stands up, staring Yamaguchi in the face despite every second he spends looking at him sends a giant blade deeper in his chest. “Every fucking day I wake up and have to deal with these demons I can’t control even on a mountain of prescription drugs. Do you know how pathetic that is? Do you have any idea just how helpless and weak I feel? Every. Single. Day.”

Kei takes a step closer.

“I don’t know how to help myself. I hate who I am, who I’ve become. I may have to live with this cursed version of myself, but my single solace...the _one. thing._ that I have that makes it just a little less excruciating, is the fact that no one else knows it. All I have is the ability to pretend I’m not this pathetic shell of a person, but now you’ve taken that away from me.”

Kei steps closer and closer until he’s towering above Yamaguchi, close enough to see the tears brimming over his eyes.

“Tsukki I--”

“Get out,” Kei interrupts. He’s done. He doesn’t want to hear anything else.

“Please I,” Yamaguchi chokes behind his tears, “You know I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“Yeah, well, congratulations, you managed to hurt even me. I’m sure that impenetrable image you’ve always had of me is gone now too huh? That’s fine, what other illusion of me can we tear down while we’re on a roll?” Kei makes sure his words are knives, even though he knows nothing he can say can compare to the blade that’s through his chest right now.

Yamaguchi winces through his tears, still looking like he’s trying to say something. Kei doesn’t want to hear it, so he repeats himself once more adding an extra bit of poison to his dart.

“Get out, Tadashi.”

The look in Yamguchi’s eyes at the sound of his first name being hissed like that is so fragile, so broken, but Kei feels nothing. He feels absolutely nothing. It was his own fault for trusting anyone. He should have expected this.

Kei takes one big step back, glaring at Yamaguchi until he eventually heaves a sob and turns his back, leaving his room. Kei pauses and waits for the sound of the front door opening and closing.

And then he breaks down.

He should have known, he should have known. He can repeat this a thousand times but it doesn’t ease the pain at all. Kei drops to his bed, chest heaving with his own sobs, twice as loud as Yamaguchi’s were. He frantically grabs at his hair and yanks, seeking pain, seeking sensation. Anything to keep him grounded, because the explosion of anger burned its last flame and he’s just spiraling, spiraling, spiraling.

His headphones are on his nightstand and he scrambles for them. He’s losing the clarity of his thoughts. He needs to focus on something else before he fully succumbs to this attack. It’s been days, which only makes this one scarier, more difficult to manage.

Headphone jack meets phone, and he hits shuffle. He doesn’t care what plays, he thinks, until his brain registers the song and he throws a middle finger up to the ceiling, aiming for the universe as always.

**_I’ve been trying to fix my pride_ **

**_But that shit’s broken, that shit’s broken_ **

**_Lie, lie lie lie, and try to hide_ **

**_But now you know it_ **

**_That I’m at an all time low_ **

Kei digs his palms under his glasses and into his eyes trying to stop the tears but they won’t stop. He’s bleeding out from a wound he didn’t see coming and it hurts like a bitch. He cries through the rest of the song, aiming for catharsis but only getting more and more worked up instead.

Suddenly, there are hands on his cheeks and he’s startled out of his down-spin and met with the worried eyes of his brother.

“Nii-chan,” Kei whispers.

“Hey, Kei. What happened? Hey hey, deep breaths okay, you’re gonna be fine.”

Kei tries for a deep breath but it just gets interrupted by his crying, breaths hitching in irregular rhythm. He tries again, because dammit, he does  _ not _ cry in front of people. Not even his brother.

“Kei, talk to me,” Akiteru whispers.

Ah, there’s that again. He doesn’t want to talk. Not to Akiteru. He doesn’t want to talk to him.

Kei puts all of his focus into his breathing until he’s at a steadier rhythm. 

“Nii-chan...please go away,” he says quietly.

“Not until you tell me what happened.” Akiteru’s voice is firm. He’s worried, of course he is.

“I fought with Yamaguchi, okay? Now please...just leave me alone for a while.”

Akiteru’s surprise is obvious. Kei and Yamaguchi fighting? That never happens.

“Oh, okay.” is all he can really respond with at first. “I’ll go make some tea, okay? When you feel better come get some.”

“Thanks,” Kei replies.

Akiteru leaves and Kei is left sitting there with this blade through his chest. It’s weighing him down so painfully, he just wants to get it out but he doesn’t know how. 

His phone vibrates in his hand.

**19:27**

**Kuroo-san: i’m hooooome! i’ll be ready in a few minutes!**

_ Shit. _

Kei quickly stands and looks at himself in the mirror, nearly startling himself at his own reflection. There is no way he can Skype with Kuroo like this.

Somehow, suddenly, the blade in his chest seems to tug just a bit. 

That’s when he realizes what he needs to do in order to rip it out and start bandaging himself up. He has to talk to someone. No, not just “someone.” He has to talk to someone he’s actually willing to talk to. Right now, that person is Kuroo.

_ “I want you to know I am always willing to listen.” _

The words echo in Kei’s mind. He’ll listen. That is, if Kei will talk. Will he, though? At this point, why not, he thinks. The whole fucking volleyball team knows his secret now, what’s another name on the list?

His hands are still shaky, but he opens the chat to send a reply. 

**19:28**

**Me: kuroo-san, i do want to skype but something’s just happened and i’m kind of upset.**

**Kuroo-san: are you okay? is your brother okay? tsukki what do you mean**

Strangely, Kei smiles at Kuroo’s immediate jump to worry. Kei knows he’s genuine in how much he cares for him, despite it still being quite the mystery as to why. 

**Me: it’s okay, don’t worry. i’ll explain on skype if that’s okay?**

When Akiteru asked him to talk, he really meant it when he thought he didn’t want to talk to him. Emphasis on the  _ him _ being Akiteru. For once, Kei does want to talk. He wants this blade out of his chest. And miraculously, he feels like he actually can.

**Kuroo-san: yeah, of course. gimme a literal minute and i’ll be ready, okay?**

Kei pulls himself together and sits down in front of his laptop, plugging his headphones in. When Kuroo says “a literal minute” he means it, because the Skype jingle is going off on cue and Kei takes a deep breath before accepting the call.

When he sees Kuroo’s face on the screen, he finally exhales. Kuroo’s brows are turned up in worry, eyes darting back and forth across the screen seemingly checking Kei for injuries. It’s when he reaches Kei’s eyes that he really seems alarmed. They’re bloodshot and puffy from the crying, but there’s no point in hiding it.

“Hey,” Kei offers, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Tsukki, are you okay?” Kuroo asks softly, looking straight into the camera which sends a shiver down Kei’s spine.

“Not exactly…” Kei replies, this time adjusting his glasses. He’s extra fidgety for some reason. 

“That was a stupid question, I’m sorry, I’m just worried. You sure it’s nothing serious?” Kuroo’s voice doesn’t waver. He’s maintaining a sense of calmness despite how obvious his worry is, and it’s comforting. Kei hates when people panic or treat him like a kicked puppy.

“No, no...nothing serious. I just. I fought with Yamaguchi.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows raise in surprise for a moment, but sink back down in sympathy. “Oh man, I’m sorry…”

“We’ve never really fought like that before,” Kei says, realizing, “so I guess it just really got to me.” That’s putting it lightly. He can still feel the blade in his chest, throbbing with every breath he takes.

“You two have been friends a while, haven’t you?” Kuroo asks.

Kei reaches for his sleeves again. “Nearly ten years. He’s always been with me. He knows me better than anyone, so what happened kinda came out of left field, I guess…” He’s purposely being vague, which isn’t helping the situation. He made the decision to talk, so he needs to just spit it out.

Something in Kuroo’s expression changes entirely. His shoulders droop a little and his eyes are uncharacteristically downcast. “I see...I think I get what you mean.”

Kei quirks his head at that. “You do..?”

Kuroo hesitates, but eventually says, “He’s the most important person to you, right? To fight with someone who means so much to you...that’s gotta be really rough.” His eyes don’t even meet the screen.

Kei lets those words muddle around in his head for a few seconds. Wait...is Kuroo thinking what Kei thinks he’s thinking?

“Woah there,” Kei laughs, just a little, “Don’t take it the wrong way. He’s my best friend, yeah, but it’s not like I’m  _ heartbroken _ or anything.”

Kuroo physically perks up and Kei is screaming internally. He  _ was _ taking it like that, oh my god.

“Oh! Got it. Yeah, no totally.” Kuroo looks away, hand awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, “I wasn’t assuming that or anything.”

But he totally was, wasn’t he? Kei’s stomach does a million flips, dodging the blade as it goes.

“Right, like, imagine if you and Kenma got in a huge fight or something,” Kei offers, trying to bring it into perspective.

Wait.

Kuroo and Kenma have known each other longer than he and Yamaguchi have, right? And they’re like, really close. What if…

“Oh, yeah exactly! Same thing. It would suck of course, but we’re best buds, no heartbreak there.” Kuroo laughs and it’s awkward.  _ God  _ is it awkward, but it’s also kind of hilarious, so Kei joins in a small laugh of his own.

“Wow I uh, my bad, sorry if that was awkward.” Kuroo smiles bashfully, that damn smile that could get him out of the worst of crimes.

“No, no, it was pretty funny really,” Kei replies with an amused expression which seems to put Kuroo more at ease.

Well, looks like they’ve both clarified mutual “Not-in-love-with-my-best-friend” status. That was unexpected, but reassuring in its own way.

“Well, good, I’m really relieved to see you smiling. It was totally all part of my plan, you see.” The charming bastard tries to be convincing, but Kei simply flattens his expression at him.

“Sure, Kuroo-san.”

“Anyway, you’re stuck with me now, and we can do anything you want. No pressure. Safe space right here!” He throws his arms out in his analogy, and Kei curses himself for how bad he wishes he could just jump into them for a moment. Just a moment. Actually  _ feel _ that safe space.

“Thanks.” 

That’s as far as Kei gets because being someone who decidedly  _ does not _ talk about things, he doesn’t know the first thing about how to get started with the actually talking thing.

“Um,” he starts, chewing at his lip, “can I tell you what happened?”

If Kuroo looked surprised, he hid the expression immediately before Kei gathered the courage to look up at his screen. Instead, he rests his crossed arms on his desk and warmly smiles at him.

“Of course, I’m all ears,” he says.

Good start. Now where do we go from here? Kei’s heart starts to beat a little faster and he places his palms flat together to try and keep stability. 

“This...really isn’t an easy thing for me to talk about. In fact I usually don’t. Ever. No, actually I never have. The only reason Yamaguchi knew was because we grew up together and he experienced it all firsthand.”

Kuroo’s back to looking worried again, and he cuts in with, “Tsukki, remember you don’t have to. I’m honored that you’re willing to talk to me but you don’t have to push yourself if--”

“I want to tell you,” Kei interrupts, “If I don’t talk about it I think it’s only going to eat away at me, and I…”

Kei takes a deep breath and looks into his camera as he says, “I trust you.”

For the first time in the entirety he’s known him, Kuroo is speechless. It’s only for a few seconds, but his eyes grow as Kei’s words sink in. Kuroo hangs his head in a huff, and when he lifts it, his cheeks are rosy.

“I’m honored. And I mean that.”

Kei fiddles with his sleeves again and huffs back, “Don’t say cheesy shit.” The line doesn’t have the force it usually does, though.

“Sorry, I’ll shut up now.” Kuroo literally pretends to zip his lips closed, leaving them in the shape of his warm smile, waiting for Kei.

No going back now.

“It all started when I was younger...but I won’t get into that now,” Kei starts, “as I grew up I learned to deal with it, and it basically went away for a good few years. Until,”

He inhales, holds it for a few seconds, then let’s it out. Kuroo waits for him, not saying a word.

“I’m assuming you know about my dad, and the accident with my brother.”

Kuroo’s expression drops. “I know the bare minimum, but yes, I do.”

“Yeah...after that it kinda all came back full force. Maybe even worse than before, I don’t really remember a lot from back then.”

The fact that Kei has even come this far in telling someone this is a wonder to him. But the next part involves mouthing the words, speaking the truth into existence, meaning he can’t pretend anymore.

He can’t run anymore. He can’t deny this part of himself any longer. It’s time. His hands are shaking, his voice is too but he does everything in his power to stabilize it. 

“I have panic disorder and anxiety disorder. And, as of late, depression too, apparently.”

Though he can feel the blade in his chest is still there, there’s something else. Some other suffocating weight he can feel lift off of his shoulders as he admits the truth to Kuroo, to himself.

He exhales hard and fast, breathing in again to feel the lightness once more. He really does feel lighter. How long has this denial been burdening him? Weighing down every move, every breath, every thought. 

Kei continues, speaking down at his lap rather than at his screen. “I never wanted anyone to know. I’ve always been so ashamed of it. It’s crippling. It makes me feel so weak and pathetic and I hate it. So up until now I’ve done my best to hide it, or at the very least keep it a secret.”

Up until now…

Kei frustratingly finds himself at a loss for words. He should easily be able to recount everything from earlier, but he feels cut open and vulnerable. He’s baring everything for the very first time and it’s overwhelming.

A swift movement in the corner of his vision snaps his head up and he sees Kuroo, hand raised, finger pointing at his mouth.

Is he...asking for permission to speak? Kei then remembers Kuroo’s show of locking his lips shut and Kei can’t help the huff of a laugh that escapes him.

“Yes, Kuroo-san?”

Kuroo lowers the raised hand and uses it to unzip his lips. “I just needed to say, you are far from weak.”

Kei has been told this before by a handful of people but it never phased him. Now, somehow, for some reason, the absolute certainty in Kuroo’s voice makes him question just for a second whether or not he might be right.

“I know believing that yourself is easier said than done,” Kuroo continues, “but I’ve experienced something similar for myself secondhand.”

If Kei wasn’t completely transfixed on Kuroo’s words before, he is now. 

“What do you mean?” Kei asks.

Kuroo scratches the back of his neck again, looking off to the side in thought before looking back at his screen. “I know he wouldn’t mind me telling you if he knew the situation, so I’ll just say it. Kenma’s got really bad social anxiety. Like, really bad. I’m sure if you look back on all our training camps you might be able to put the pieces together, if you haven’t already.”

Kei’s mind spins. Kenma..? Well, Kei certainly remembers his intellect, his silent yet calculating presence on the court. He also remembers the fact that both of them tended to hide away from the groups during barbecues or after-training hangouts. The two of them never exchanged more than a few words, and Kei thinks that’s what he appreciated so much about Kenma. He was someone Kei didn’t have to worry would force him to be social. 

“I guess I just remember feeling like he was similar to me in some ways, but I never thought in those terms before…” Kei is still trying to wrack his brain for any other evidence. Ah, he does faintly remember Kenma literally running away from Kageyama’s advances during first year but, who wouldn’t do that, honestly.

Kuroo nods. “It’s always been a big hurdle for him, but I watched as he grew to be able to face those hurdles. When I convinced him to keep playing for Nekoma it was because I saw the value in him that he was suppressing because his anxiety was a looming threat keeping him from chasing it. But you saw it for yourself, he continued. He played all three years and I watched as he slowly learned to love being at practice, love playing in tournaments. That’s not to say it wasn’t difficult for him. There were days he had to take off, days he could barely step foot outside.”

Each word is a shock to Kei. He’s never known anyone who had any issue similar to him, and Kenma of all people? Kenma who has been a daily presence in Kei’s life as of late through his Youtube channel, which is only growing and growing in popularity.

“That’s why I say you’re far from weak, Tsukki.” Kuroo repeats himself. “People like you, like Kenma, who fight every day against something like that are stronger than anyone else.”

“I…” Kei tries to speak but no words come.

“That’s all I wanted to say, I’ll shut up again.” Kuroo moves to re-zip his lips, but Kei blurts out before he can.

“No, you don’t have to. I was just trying to thank you for telling me that. I can’t say that I believe it myself, the whole strong thing, but I want to.”

Kuroo smiles at him. “That’s the most important starting point, Tsukki. Of course you can’t just believe something like that as if it’s some fairy tale epiphany. It doesn’t work like that. Again, I know. I’ve seen it. But you’ve got me, and I’ll help remind you as many times as it takes.”

Kei’s gasps in a breath.

_ But you’ve got me. _

“I’m pretty sure I interrupted your story, so if you’re still up for it, I’m not going anywhere,” Kuroo says, assuming the damned cheek+palm position that Kei is far too weak for.

Kei pulls his legs up onto his chair and wraps his arms around them to rest his head on top. He feels safest like this, and for some reason it pulls a smile out of Kuroo, so he feels a tiny bit of justice too. Win-win.

“Long story short, Yamaguchi and I have always had a promise that he would never tell anyone about my situation. In April, on our first meeting with the third years, I ended up having a panic attack in the gym. Yamaguchi got me out, but that spiraled this whole relapse and homeschooling situation. I still made him promise not to tell the team anything, even after that.”

“Damn,” Kuroo says, eyes earnest, rather than pitiful, “I’m really sorry that happened, Tsukki.”

“It’s whatever,” Kei replies. Because that’s really all it is. “The Miyagi Interhigh Qualifiers are next week, and our coach had to fill out an excusal form for my absence. In order to do that, he needed a legitimate reason, so Yamaguchi told him.”

The blade in Kei’s chest burns like hell.

“Honestly, I don’t think I would have been too upset if that’s where it ended. I get it. Our coach does need a real medical excuse. But he didn’t stop there. He told--”

Kei has to pause to catch his breath. In his mind, he puts a hand on the hilt of the blade.

“He told the entire fucking team, despite knowing that was the last thing I wanted.”

He pulls on the blade, and it  _ hurts. _

“Despite knowing what that would do to me.”

He pulls harder, and it moves this time. Just a fraction. The pain is real, it’s throbbing, but he needs this thing  _ out. _

“He chalked it up to captain responsibility, but I call bullshit. He didn’t care how much it would affect me. He even admitted he was just sick of lying and that’s why he said it. I should have known it would end up this way, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking  _ hurt.” _

He yanks with every ounce of energy he has left, and feels the blade release from his chest with one final unbearable sting.

He doesn’t realize he’s been gasping for air until he hears Kuroo’s voice, calm and gentle. “Hey, Tsukki, listen to my voice, okay? Deep breaths with me, ready?”

Kei follows the rhythm of Kuroo’s breaths. He really has had experience with stuff like this, hasn’t he? 

“Good, great job. How are you feeling now?” Kuroo asks.

“Like there’s a gaping hole in my chest,” Kei replies. He snakes one arm behind his legs and holds it to his chest. It aches, but it’s whole. He takes another breath for good measure and can’t feel any hindrance. 

“I don’t blame you. This is a shitty situation.” 

“That’s for sure,” Kei agrees, “I don’t know what to do from here.”

Kuroo brings a hand to his chin, “I don’t think you need to decide quite yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, this only just happened. You need to allow yourself to process all of your emotions and thoughts before you can clearly think of what to do next,” Kuroo states, as if that’s the most obvious of answers. It is though, but Kei has never let himself “process.”

“You’re right. I guess I just don’t even know how to do that,” Kei admits.

“You’ve already taken a huge step by even telling me what happened. Putting it into words helps your brain process your thoughts and feelings on the matter.”

Why does Kuroo Tetsurou have to be so fucking  _ right. _

“I do feel like my head is clearer than it was before, so thank you for letting me talk to you about it.” Kei feels his face heat up. Just because he talked doesn’t mean it was easy. And it certainly doesn’t mean he likes this vulnerable feeling at all.

“I really mean it when I say this, but thank you for talking to me about it. I feel like I know you so much better now,” Kuroo Testurou, cheek-in-palm menace, says with the most genuine of smiles on his face.

Kei’s face is aflame after that, so he buries it behind his legs and tries for a bit more venom this time when he repeats his earlier line, “I told you not to say cheesy shit.”

Booming laughter, because Kuroo can’t torture Kei any more, can he. “Your reactions are just too cute, I can’t help myself. Sorry, Tsukki.”

Kei’s gut burns at the sound of the c-word. Not even just that, the fact that Kuroo went so far as to imply he wants to know Kei better. Those sparks of hope in the ashes are glowing so strongly, but he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s supposed to do with them.

Guess he could try to flick the sparks back at him.

“You’re one to talk, Mushiba-Pose-san”*

Kuroo’s eyes widen briefly, then immediately squint sinisterly. Oh, shit. Bad idea.

“What, you saying you think this is cute?” Kuroo ups the dramatics like crazy, the bastard. He bats his eyelashes and purses his lips as he places his cheek in his palm, eyeing the camera.

Kei’s fingers grip at his legs. “I refuse to even use that word.”

“Uwaaah! Tsukki thinks I’m cute!!” Kuroo sing-songs.

“Kuroo-san, I will hang up on you,” Kei threatens.

Kuroo eases his act but not without bluntly stating, “Nah, you won’t.”

Kei hates the fact that he’s right, and hates the goddamn smirk that comes with it too. The last thing he wants is to end his call with Kuroo, but the exhaustion of today’s incident is settling in, and he can feel himself fighting a yawn.

“However, you’ve been through a lot today and I can tell you’re tired. Think you’ll be able to get some rest tonight?” Kuroo, so pure in his sincerity, it makes Kei’s heart ache a little.

That’s a good question, though. It’s been a particularly triggering day, so Kei doesn’t have much faith the universe will be kind to him tonight.

“I’m gonna do my best.” is all he can honestly say.

Kuroo nods along to that sentiment. “Good. I’ll be up working on some assignments, so don’t hesitate to reach me if you need someone, okay?”

Yet another extension of kindness Kei can’t quite wrap his head around. Kuroo keeps reaching out for him, patiently waiting for Kei to extend his own hand just enough to meet his. It’s scary how willingly Kei has started to do so. It’s unlike him, quite frankly. But that’s Kuroo Tetsurou for you, getting Kei to do uncharacteristic things since May of 2 years ago.

“Thanks, will do,” he replies, but offers nothing more. Like Kuroo said, he’s not going to hang up on him.

Kuroo seems hesitant to end the call, too. They aren’t saying a word, neither of them willing to be the first to say goodnight. Instead, they let themselves get lost in the easy comfort of silence. Eyes on the other in unspoken communication, certainty of safety. Kei fights it for a while, but eventually slips his eyes closed and just listens to the familiar white noise on the other end.

He won’t hear the call end. He also won’t hear Kuroo’s quiet “Goodnight Tsukki,” along with something else whispered too quietly to hear if he was even conscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: All Time Low - Jon Bellion
> 
> Thank you everyone SO much for so many lovely comments on the last chapter, you really keep me going. ;_; <333
> 
> *"Mushiba" translates to cavity, so the goddamned cheek in palm pose Kuroo always does is often referred to as a "Mushiba Pose." Imagine holding your cheek because your teeth hurts due to a cavity. Not so cute anymore is it haha.


	8. we can't make any promises now can we

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tetsurou knocks on the door, four beats in a special pattern that’s been tradition for over 15 years.  
> The door opens and Kenma looks up at him with slight surprise, wireless gaming headphones still emitting sound around the neck of the hoodie he designed himself.  
> “Kuro,” is all he says, but there’s several statements and questions behind the tone of it, Tetsurou already knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> explicit descriptions of symptoms of anxiety/panic attacks

**_May 28th, Evening_ **

It’s quiet. The kind of quiet that wraps you up in its purity, calmly filling the air without threat. Tetsurou has known all kinds of quiet. Tense quiet, awkward quiet, nervous quiet, but never this kind. This kind of comfortable quiet is a first for him, so he lets himself get wrapped up in it entirely. And Tsukki, tucked up in his hoodie on the other side of the screen, seems to be doing the exact same thing.

It’s warm. Not in the room temperature sense of the word. Rather, Tetsurou is warm, and no, it’s not a fever. He’s known the warmth of fondness, has felt it for many of his friends and loved ones, but this warmth is just a few degrees different. It’s a turbulent warmth, comfortably burning throughout his body, but he knows at any second it could ignite into something much stronger. He’s felt the flickers, felt the sparks, and he’s sought to light them off himself on quite a few occasions. He’s not dumb, he knows what he’s doing, and he knows it’s dangerous.

He can’t tell just by looking whether or not Tsukki is feeling the same thing. He sure as hell isn’t going to ask. All he can do is hope that the flustered looks and slight blush he pulls out of him now and then is evidence enough. But it’s dangerous, he knows.

Tsukki’s eyes have been getting heavier and heavier by the second, and they’re finally starting to flicker shut. God, Tetsurou is so warm. He says nothing, allowing Tsukki the time he needs to relax, and Tetsurou is in awe at the fact that he’s willing to show him such a vulnerable state.

Tsukki’s glasses are nudged askew due to the placement of his arm, but Tetsurou can still see his eyes. Blonde lashes longer than should be allowed, eyebrows in a relaxed position as opposed to his usual scowl. Tetsurou studies this face just in case he never gets to see it again. He paints it in his memory like a piece of art he would never, ever want to lose.

Before he knows it, five minutes have passed, and Tsukki hasn’t moved at all. He’s fallen asleep, and Tetsurou knows the right thing to do is end the call and stop being such a voyeur.

“Tsukki?” he whispers instead.

No response.

“You asleep?” he tries again, a little louder.

No response. No movement whatsoever.

Tetsurou smiles to himself and takes it all in one last time before saying, “Goodnight, Tsukki.”

His finger hovers over the “End Call” button but something inside stops him. A selfish thought, a secret desire he would never dare to entertain were Tsukki conscious. But he’s not, so he can indulge himself just this once.

He lowers his voice to the smallest of a whisper, just in case.

“Sleep well, Kei. I--”

He stops himself. No, not now. It’s not the time. He takes a final mental picture and ends the call, promptly putting his face in his hands.

That was...a lot to process. Even for Tetsurou, who considers himself quite proficient in processing information, thoughts, and feelings, thank you very much. But _d_ _amn_ are there a ton of thoughts and feelings to match all that information.

Tetsurou stands up and starts pacing around his dorm, recalling everything from the beginning.

  1. Akaashi was right about mental health repercussions from everything that happened a few months back. Tetsurou suspected as much but didn’t want to pry, so he’s beyond grateful Tsukki came willingly. He adds that miracle to his mental list of Unexplainable Things About Tsukishima Kei, right next to his incredible affinity for anything strawberry flavored. 
  2. Ah, but he mentioned struggling with this since childhood. When did it start? _Why_ did it start? That’s a story for another time, but it doesn’t sit well with Tetsurou. The thought of Tsukki having anything but a happy, healthy childhood causes a painful ache in his chest. 
  3. Right, so, anxiety disorder, panic disorder, _and_ depression? God. Tetsurou can’t even imagine. He has the immediate urge to start Googling away for information and any kind of beneficial tactics for future use, but shuffles that thought away for later.
  4. He never wanted anyone to know. Of course, that seems just like Tsukki. Ever closed off, as private as a person can get. Tetsurou has noticed his pride issues and suspected a bit of a complex since the beginning, so all of that on top of this secret is just...too much for one person to deal with, surely. 
  5. He doesn’t have feelings for Freckles. Good.
  6. Freckles went against Tsukki’s will and told not only their coach but the entire team, so Tsukki’s pissed and undeniably hurt by it.



Tetsurou stops his pacing to mull over that last thought. It’s a difficult situation really. He completely understands the necessity of telling their coach. He can put himself in Freckles’ shoes and imagine the weight of holding that secret for so long but...can that really justify telling the entire team? Maybe just the other third years that have been with Tsukki since the beginning would have been less of a betrayal..? Scratch that. Knowing Tsukki, it doesn’t matter if he told one teammate or twenty, he’d be just as upset. It’s the concept of breaking his promise and betraying his trust, it doesn’t matter to what degree. 

Tetsurou lets out a long sigh. Now what? He’s listed everything and yet still feels completely at a loss. What can he even do aside from offering his ear and pestering him consistently? Can that actually make a difference?

It’s not often he finds himself lost like this, but when he does, there’s only one person he can go to.

He closes his door behind him quietly and pads over to the room next door. Tetsurou may have pulled some strings to make sure their dorms ended up together, and for that he’s thankful. He puts an ear up to the door and listens carefully. He can hear the familiar muffled sound of a game leaking through headphones, but there’s no sign of commentary. Okay, he’s in the clear.

Tetsurou knocks on the door, four beats in a special pattern that’s been tradition for over 15 years.

The door opens and Kenma looks up at him with slight surprise, wireless gaming headphones still emitting sound around the neck of the hoodie he designed himself.

“Kuro,” is all he says, but there’s several statements and questions behind the tone of it, Tetsurou already knows.

“Hey Kenma, can I come in for a bit? Hope I’m not interrupting too much.”

“That’s never stopped you before.” Kenma turns around to pad back to his overly expensive gaming chair, but leaves the door open as a silent OK for entry.

Tetsurou lets himself in, but instead of taking his usual spot on Kenma’s bed he just stands there, nearly hovering over him in his chair. 

Kenma’s expression immediately darkens. “That look…”

Tetsurou, all too seriously, stares down at him. “Please,” he says.

Kenma sighs, “You know my hugs are reserved for Shoyo.”

“Kenmaaaaaa,” Tetsurou whines, “I make you hug me like, once a year, don’t fail me now.”

Kenma scrutinizes him further, giving Tetsurou that rare uncomfortable feeling of being read that only Kenma (okay fine, and sometimes Akaashi) can give. All Tetsurou can do is maintain his stare.

Kenma sighs again as if accepting his demise and slowly stands up out of his chair. The most effort he’ll put in is slightly lifting his arms like, maybe 20 degrees. It doesn’t matter, because Tetsurou scoops him up, lifting him up off the floor with ease despite immediate protest and _squeezes._ He waits a few seconds for Kenma to stop kicking and huff out yet another sigh before he returns his own light squeeze.

He really, really wishes his brain didn’t immediately jump to wondering how Tsukki would react if he tried to lift him, too. 

Satisfied by the rush of dopamine, Tetsurou places Kenma back down. His expression is identical to that of a cat who was just forced to take a bath.

Tetsurou laughs at him, because that look will never not get old. He takes the familiar few steps to Kenma’s bed and hops onto it, scooting back until his back hits the wall. Kenma, sitting back down in his chair, swirls around and stares Tetsurou down.

“Explain.” is all he says, but that word alone turns knots in Tetsurou’s stomach.

He shrugs, playing dumb. “What? A guy can’t want a hug from his BFF now and then? Dudes bein’ bros and all that.”

“You’re being more difficult than usual, which means whatever’s bothering you is _really_ bothering you. Now talk,” Kenma spits out so fast, once again flaunting his Master’s Degree in Reading Kuroo Tetsurou. 

Tetsurou actually scowls at him. He can’t just tell him everything that just happened. The last thing he wants to do is betray Tsukki’s trust. But there are some answers he knows only Kenma can give him.

“Hypothetically speaking,”

“You know I don’t deal with hypotheticals. Try again when you’re ready to actually fess up,” Kenma interrupts and swirls his chair back around away from him like a goddamn mafia boss.

Tetsurou lets out a frustrated groan and scoots forward, flinging his legs off the edge of the bed and hunching over, already feeling defeated. He switches his tone to something more negotiable and says, “Listen Kenma, this is sensitive shit. I kinda have to use hypotheticals. Just...trust me.”

One beat. Two. Three. But on the fourth, Kenma slowly turns in his chair until one eye is on Tetsurou. “Fine, go ahead.”

“Thank you. Okay, so, hypothetically speaking, wait, no…” Tetsurou sighs heavily, dragging a hand down his face. He really doesn’t know what to say. What he _can_ say. 

He tries again, “Kenma, have you ever had a panic attack?”

Kenma’s attention perks at that, fully turning himself to Tetsurou. “A panic attack? No, I don’t think so...why?”

Can’t answer that. 

“What’s the difference between an anxiety attack and a panic attack? Your experience has all been anxiety attacks, right?”

Kenma only looks more and more suspiciously at Tetsurou, but answers him anyway. “Yes...you’ve seen for yourself my anxiety attacks plenty of times. But as for the difference, I’m not positive.”

Well of course, if he’s never experienced one there’s no way he would know. “Can you refresh my memory on what exactly an anxiety attack feels like?” Tetsurou asks hesitantly.

Kenma’s eyes flicker to the floor. “Um, well, anxiety attacks are usually caused due to a lot of build up of worry or fear. It builds and builds and my mind becomes extremely restless. It’s difficult to think straight, difficult to concentrate on anything else.”

Tetsurou nods along, recalling each of these details from all his experiences with Kenma growing up. “There’s physical symptoms too sometimes, right?”

Kenma nods slightly. “Increased heart rate, usually shortness of breath too. I get startled a lot easier too.”

Tetsurou can’t help but smile fondly at that. Kenma’s always been the jittery type, and he’s seen him literally _jump_ like those cat vs. cucumbers videos. 

“Thanks, Kenma. Sorry for bringing that up out of nowhere. I still really want to know how it differs from a panic attack, though…”

“Let’s find out.” Kenma whips back around and starts furiously typing away at his laptop. Tetsurou stands up and rests his arm on top of the chair, leaning over to watch him.

Kenma quickly finds a website full of information on clinical studies for both anxiety and panic attacks. He reads aloud the first paragraph that sticks out to him the most.

“A panic attack is an intense and sudden feeling of fear, terror, or discomfort accompanied by several mental and physical symptoms.”

Tetsurou gasps aloud as his eyes reach the list of symptoms, but Kenma reads on, listing them one by one.

“Feeling of unreality. Feeling detached from oneself. Fear of losing control or going crazy. Fear of dying. Accelerated heart rate or heart palpitations. Trembling or shaking. Sensation of difficulty breathing. Chest pain. Nausea. Dizziness, lightheadedness. Numbness or tingling sensations. Chills. Hot flashes.”

“Jesus Christ,” Tetsurou breathes out.

“Yeah, I’ve never experienced something like this before,” Kenma says definitely.

“Glad to hear it. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to go through something like that.”

Kenma hums in agreement.

Tetsurou slides his arm off the edge of the chair and sits back on the bed, overwhelmed. _That’s_ what Tsukki has been going through? How often do these happen? How long do they last? How does he deal with them? His list of questions is only growing, and he came here for answers, dammit.

“I hope you know I still won’t let you get away with not explaining why you wanted to know this.” Kenma turns back around to face him, though Tetsurou’s eyes are on the ground.

“Hypothetically speaking,” Tetsurou says, because that’s the only way he can justify this, “if someone were to have not only anxiety disorder but also panic disorder... _and_ depression on top of it all…”

Tetsurou’s chest aches. It physically aches for Tsukki. 

“How do you help them?” He asks, quietly, voice wavering. He’s asking Kenma, but he’s mainly asking himself, and maybe even the universe. 

“Kuro, is this about Tsukishima?”

Tetsurou’s head shoots up, and the shock in his eyes is a dead give away. Kenma’s got a Master’s Degree in reading him, after all. 

He sighs, “Kenma...I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. Ah, wait.” Tetsurou’s guilt doubles as he remembers. “Actually, I owe you an apology. I mentioned your situation to him when he was talking to me about his. I should have asked for your permission first but I just...I needed him to know he wasn’t alone.”

“That’s fine,” Kenma replies immediately, surprising Tetsurou yet again. 

“Are you sure..? I feel really bad, really, I--”

“Don’t. Kuro, you just asked how to help, right? I think making him realize he isn’t alone is one of the best things you could have done.”

Tetsurou gapes at his best friend, who has gone through so much himself, but went through it alone. Kenma never knew anyone who struggled with similar things as him, but look at him now.

Kenma surprises Tetsurou a third time, because he maintains eye-contact so assuredly as he continues the vulnerable conversation.

“You’re doubting yourself too much by thinking you don’t know how to help Tsukishima. You helped me for years and years. You’re probably the most capable person I know for a situation like this.”

Tetsurou is _not_ going to cry, goddammit.

“I don’t even know how I helped you in the first place.”

Surprise number four. Kenma _smiles._ It’s small, it’s soft, but it’s genuine. “You were always a constant, reliable presence. I never had to fear about suffering alone because you made sure I knew you were there. You were patient and never pushy. I think that was the key for me, and from what little I know about Tsukishima, that probably will be for him, too.”

Tetsurou is speechless. He never thought twice about any of that. He was just being a friend to Kenma, doing what he felt was best to support him. He’s never been told so directly something like this. Oh god, there’s definitely no fighting the giant lump in his throat.

He laughs despite himself, looking up at the ceiling and blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay, mostly for Kenma’s sake.

“The second a tear falls you’re out of here,” Kenma deadpans, vulnerable mode decidedly off.

Tetsurou laughs harder. “I know, I know. But more importantly, who’s fault is it? I’m baffled, Kenma, it’s like you unlocked a new skill called Feelings.”

Kenma huffs, “Blame Shoyo.”

Tetsurou faces his friend again and smirks, “Nah, I think I’ll thank him instead.”

Kenma narrows his eyes and Tetsurou is immediately full of regret. “Don’t think you’re subtle, I’ve been well aware of how you’ve felt about Tsukishima this whole time.”

Testurou throws his arms up in exasperation. “Is it THAT obvious?!”

“Yes.” Kenma has zero mercy. “But Kuro, you do know this is a delicate situation, right?”

“Not you too...I’ve already been lectured by Akaashi, trust me, I’m aware.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing. In fact, I think it can turn into something really good, depending.”

Tetsurou sucks in a breath and holds it. “What do you mean depending?”

“Whether he feels the same way, obviously.” Zero. Mercy.

Tetsurou hangs his head again. “I can never tell. He’s such a pain in the ass to read.”

Kenma’s hand shoots out at him. “Give me your phone.”

“What? No!” Tetsurou slinks back, startled and confused.

“Kuro, give me your phone.” Kenma waits, hand outstretched. 

Tetsurou hesitates, but hands it over, crossing his arms as he watches Kenma swipe through. It feels like an eternity, but Kenma seems to finally have gathered enough data, so he hands it back over.

“Yeah, he likes you.”

“ _HUH?”_ Tetsurou shouts, far too loud, literally startling Kenma. “Sorry, but _what?_ How do you know?”

“Just trust me. He does. Also, you suck at flirting but that’s unsurprising. Now get out, my head hurts.” Kenma whirls back around in his chair and puts his headphones back on. Office hours have officially closed.

Tetsurou, still stunned, manages to stand up and leave Kenma be, making his way back to his own dorm. Somehow he feels even more confused than he was before he visited Kenma, but for different reasons.

_Everything is so much._

What the hell did Kenma mean when he said this could turn into something _good?_ Does he mean it’s okay to feel the way he feels despite how everything...is? Delicate, that was the word he used. It’s accurate, Tetsurou certainly feels like Tsukki might flee at any moment if he says the wrong thing. But Tsukki should know him by now, know that he never has ill-intent, know that he teases because he cares about someone.

And if what Kenma said was true and he actually _does_ like him back...just how far can he test the waters? He feels like he’s got a toe or two in, occasionally dipping his whole foot but never more than that. God knows he's dying to just dive in.

Tetsurou checks his phone. It’s past 10 p.m, Tsukki is usually asleep by this time. Hopefully he’s actually in bed by now. 

**22:12**

**Me: hey sleeping beauty, i hope you’re actually horizontal now**

He stares down at the message, Kenma’s criticism of his flirting style echoing in his mind but he doesn’t care. 

There’s so much he wants to say right now. So many things he knows he _shouldn’t_ say right now. He needs to be patient, but Tsukki makes him want to bulldoze full speed ahead.

**22:13**

**Me: thanks again for talking to me tonight. it really means a lot to me that you did.**

Fuck it.

**22:13**

**Me: you mean a lot to me in general.**

**Me: sleep well, tsukki. i’ll be here in the morning.**

Tetsurou’s heart is racing despite knowing Tsukki won’t read this until the morning. But he will. He’ll read it. All he can do now is hope he doesn’t run.

He turns his phone on Do Not Disturb and plugs it into the charger beside his desk, finally flicking the light switch off. He flops down onto his bed, hands behind his head, which is running a million miles a minute. He’s got an early class tomorrow so he has to relax and get some sleep himself. He closes his eyes and hums a little to himself. In no time at all he gets lost behind his eyelids as the melody plays clearly in his mind.

**_Is it cool that I said all that_ **

**_Is it too soon to do this yet?_ **

**_‘Cause I know that it’s delicate_ **

**_(‘Cause I like you)_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Delicate - Taylor Swift
> 
> Bit of a shorter chapter this week but an important one nonetheless. I hope you enjoyed it! I got a comment recently addressing how sweet and kind Kuroo is in my fic and I wanted to address my characterization of him ESPECIALLY after this chapter. We all know that Kuroo is a pusher. He loves pushing people's buttons, knows just how to get someone riled up. BUT I truly believe that when it comes down to something serious, he pushes all of that aside and is a genuine, caring, dedicated friend. So, when Kenma says he was never "pushy" I definitely don't mean to say he dropped the whole pain-in-the-ass act because that's Kuroo's essence lol. I mean that in reference to Kenma's struggle with anxiety. Hope that makes sense and that he doesn't seem too OOC! <33


	9. i wish we were all rose-colored too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’ll be home all day, alright? Enjoy your lunch.”   
> “I’ll try.” is all he says before he hits the end call button. He stands up, rolls his shoulders, and takes in a huge breath. This isn’t going to be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> difficult relationship with food  
> angst  
> descriptions of a panic attack
> 
> BUT THERE'S SOME FUN FLIRTING HERE TOO HEY-O

**_June 7th, Afternoon_ **

“Okay okay, but get this.” Kuroo’s laughter rings clear in Kei’s headphones, “Instead of asking ‘How are you,’ I should ask you ‘What color is your heart today?”

Kei physically scrunches his nose in disgust at that. “....Ew.”

Kuroo laughs loud and true. “What color  _ is _ your heart, Tsukki? Wait no, let me guess.” He adjusts himself in his seat until he’s just about mimicking Kei’s usual posture, then grabs a pair of sunglasses he apparently has just lying around on his desk. Pushing the glasses up with his middle finger, Kuroo mumbles in a flat tone, “Black, like the void.”

Kei flips the camera off, absolutely refusing to smile despite the muscles in his face twitching against his will.

“What, am I wrong?” Kuroo laughs at his own joke, putting the sunglasses away.

“My heart is as red as the ones you see in the fake skeletons in anatomy class,” Kei states, matter-of-fact.

Kuroo rolls his eyes. “That was my second guess.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

Kei narrows his eyes at the screen but says no more. He probably did see that coming, whatever. 

“Do you want another one?”

“Not really but I know you’re gonna read them off anyway.” Kei tries to sound annoyed but it doesn’t quite reach.

“What story are you telling yourself today?”

“Oh my god.”

“What lies do you find yourself believing today?”

Kuroo is reading some disgustingly cliche “support” blog on how to best understand and help someone with mental illness.

He’s been doing a lot of research in the past week, determined to understand more and more about what Kei has been going through without having to make him talk about it. 

It’s...sweet? 

Yamaguchi tried something similar back when they were younger, but he had to face the brunt of it so often it was basically just trial and error until he figured out basically what was OK and not OK to do.

Kuroo, on the other hand, is going in blind. He’s never seen Kei have an attack and god forbid never will, and yet he’s been going to these lengths to understand. Kei’s gut does its routine cartwheels as he thinks about it. He never asked him to do this. He’s been doing it of his own accord.

_ You mean a lot to me in general. _

Kei remembers waking up from a particularly difficult night to that message and feeling like he was going to blast himself to the moon. He didn’t know to what extent he should interpret that sentiment, and still doesn’t. It’s so hard to tell whether he’s seeing things through the lens of what he wishes they were rather than what they really are, and that’s what scares him.

Regardless, at this point he will take whatever Kuroo is willing to give him. It just so happens what Kuroo is willing to give him is...a whole lot more than he knows how to deal with.

“This is why I quit therapy.” 

Kuroo takes his hand off his computer mouse he was so enthusiastically scrolling with a second before and awkwardly rubs the back of his neck.

“Ahhh, sorry Tsukki, was that too far? I think these are stupid too, I’d never seriously ask you these.”

Kei leans further back in his chair, but waves an assuring hand. “Nah, don’t worry. Dark humor on my part. Therapy really was like that though.”

“Really?” Kuroo asks, fully attentive. Kei knows he won’t ask past that. That’s probably Kei’s favorite thing about Kuroo. He lets Kei’s problems stay his own, but always opens a window or two in case he feels like letting them out.

“Really. I haven’t gone since I was 12, but even back then I knew how bullshit it was.”

Kuroo smiles widely at that, killing Kei in the process. “Oh my god, were you just as cynical at 12?”

Kei decides for a bit of revenge, grabbing the edge of his glasses and lifting his chin with a smirk. “We all can’t be like you, my rose-colored boy.”

Check and mate. Kuroo’s frozen.

But wait what the fuck did Kei just say?  _ My— _

They’re song lyrics...it’s a song reference...but Kuroo doesn’t know that, clearly, and Kei didn’t even mean to use that line, oh fuck. 

“I’ll admit, I don’t even know what that means,” Kuroo confesses, visibly flustered.

Well, he’s dug this grave, might as well lie in it.

“Check your reflection. Pretty straightforward if you ask me, you’re rightly rose-colored.” Every cell in Kei’s body is screaming with electricity but his pride is demanding them to chill the fuck out and take the win.

Kuroo’s eyes widen and dart to the corner of his screen where his video should be, and clears his throat before throwing back a bite-less, “Wow, fuck you.”

Kei can’t help it, he throws his head back and laughs. The kind of laugh he does only on very rare occasions, but this is a rare enough occasion. Kuroo Tetsurou, flustered to the point of a full-face blush and throwing around meaningless insults. Because of him.

Ah, it feels good to win for once.

When he finishes his laughing spree, he turns his attention back to Kuroo who has not returned to his normal state in the least. He’s quite literally pouting in his seat.

“Sorry, saw the opportunity and had to take it. In all seriousness, rose-colored just means you’re super optimistic, that’s all,” Kei explains, covering his smile with the backside of his hand.

Kuroo sits up a little. “I’ll take that as a compliment, coming from a Grade A pessimist such as yourself.”

“Can’t argue with that. I’m the furthest thing from an optimist as I could get.” Kei shrugs.

“You know what they say.” Kuroo’s back to smirking again, crossing his arms and leaning forward, “Opposites attract.”

_ God fucking damn him. _

The ball is back in Kei’s court. Rather, back on his side of the net. This entire time it feels like they’ve been rallying back and forth, sending spike after spike at one another, aiming right for the heart. As it stands, Kuroo’s winning by a landslide and Kei won’t stand for it. He’s grown to hate losing, and this is an entirely different kind of game.

Kei doesn’t know the first damn thing about flirting, but he makes a mental note every single time a movement, a word, or a change in tone gets a reaction out of Kuroo. He’s been creating an arsenal of more indirect attacks, since he’s never been one for embarrassing shit. 

Kei runs a hand through his bangs, letting them fall down piece by piece as he looks directly into the camera with a cocked eyebrow and says, “Oh? Is that so.”

Kuroo’s gulp is audible. Tsukishima Kei Team: 1 point.

“When was the last time you got a haircut, Tsukki?”

“Stellar subject change, Kuroo-san.”

“Shut up, it’s a genuine question.”

It’s true, Kei’s hair has grown out a lot these past few months, but he’s had no will to go get it cut. It’s never been this long before, but he doesn’t exactly spend enough time in the mirror to worry about it.

“I don’t know, probably sometime in January?” Kei really doesn’t remember.

Kuroo hums. “You gonna cut it any time soon?”

“Uh, I don’t really have plans to at the moment but--”

“Good,” Kuroo interrupts, “I like it this length.”

Kuroo Tetsurou Team: 1 point.

Kei can feel the heat rise up in his neck until it fills his face. He glowers at Kuroo, but gives a flustered, “Thanks, I guess.” He takes a moment to look at the mess that is Kuroo’s hair and can’t help the question that slips out of him. 

“Speaking of hair, I’ve always wanted to know what the fuck’s up with yours.”

Kuroo feigns a gasp and holds a hand to his chest. “Are you saying there’s something wrong with my hair?”

“You own a mirror, don’t you?”

Kuroo’s eyes go flat for a moment, unamused by Kei’s sarcasm. “It’s got a mind of its own, there’s no taming it. I wake up like this and no amount of product can fix it. I do flat-iron my bangs, though.”

_ (None of that makes sense) _

“How on earth do you wake up like that, is my next question,” Kei asks, baffled by this hair physics.

Kuroo puffs his cheeks in a pout and crosses his arms. “I’ll only tell you this because you’ve confided in me before.”

Oh? Now Kei’s really interested.

“I basically sleep with pillows smashed against each ear to block out noise at night, and years of doing that have resulted in this style, if you can even call it that.”

Kei tries really hard to imagine that in his head, but it’s almost too ridiculous to do so. He also really doesn’t want to be imagining Kuroo in bed right now, thanks. But more importantly…

“Okay, back up. You mentioned doing so to block out noise. What exactly do you mean?”

Kuroo shrugs, eyes straying away from the screen as he says, “I’ve got a fear of sudden loud noises in the middle of the night. Pretty lame, I know. I absolutely can’t stand silence when I’m trying to sleep. Sets me on edge. I’m also too paranoid about missing my alarms to wear earplugs, so.”

Does Kuroo know who he’s talking to? He shouldn’t feel lame at all, he has absolutely no reason to. Everyone’s afraid of something.

“That’s not lame at all, Kuroo-san. It’s actually kinda cu--” Kei chokes over the word, sputtering coughs assaulting his lungs out of nowhere.

Oh my  _ god _ he almost actually said it.

“Tsukki?! You good?” Kuroo is obviously alarmed, and Kei just prays he has no idea where he was going with that sentence.

“I’m fi--” Kei coughs again, but it feels like the last one. “I’m fine. Sorry. Anyway, all I was saying was that’s not lame and it makes sense. I hate silence too, I’ve got my headphones on nearly 24/7. Fall asleep with them on sometimes.”

Kuroo cackles at that. “Now that’s an image.”

“Stop imagining me in bed, Kuroo-san,” Kei quips.

“I--what?! That’s not--What’s with you today Tsukki?! Do you have a fever?!” Kuroo sputters.

Tsukishima Kei Team: 1 point.

Kei smirks as he says, “Dunno, do you have a problem with it?”

Kuroo furrows his brows. “Next time I see you, I’m going to give you so much hell.”

_ Next time I see you. _

Kei’s stomach does a back handspring, but his brain is as cynical as ever.

“Probably won’t be for a while, so don’t hold your breath.” Kei can feel the atmosphere shift with that comment, but it’s true. It’s not like he’s going to Tokyo anytime soon. It’s not like he  _ could. _

Kuroo grabs the back of his neck, his reflex when things get awkward. “I’ll be helping at the summer training camps again, y’know. It’s a whole month away, so you never know…”

Kei knows exactly what he’s hinting at. Kei’s timely return! Recovery complete! Fated reunion! Fairytale outcome! Yeah, right. He’s gone back to exhausting attacks every night since the fight with Yamaguchi and has had even less of an appetite than before, if that’s even possible. He’s nowhere near “recovered.” Nowhere near able to join the team again, let alone for a week’s worth of training all the way out in Tokyo. 

Kuroo is lucky. He’s got no reason to dread tomorrow. Or the next week. Or the next month. The next year. Kei dreads every passing hour when he’s not distracted by whatever the fuck  _ this _ is. He can’t look at the future so easily when he’s got weeks and weeks of proof that no matter how hard you wish things would change, they won’t. There is no bright side for Kei.

“I think you and I both know that’s not going to happen,” Kei says to his knees.

After a long pause, Kuroo says, “I know you hate when I’m overly positive, but I’m confident there will be an end to this. I promise you. I’ll admit I’m being selfish in hoping for you to feel well enough to come next month, but hope is all I got, so I’ll hold onto that.”

Hold onto hope, huh.

What are you supposed to do when you have none?

“It’s not like I don’t want to go,” Kei mumbles.

“Of course I know that Tsukki, I’m sure you really miss playing, even though you won’t admit it.” Kuroo’s voice is kind, but Kei’s eyes can’t meet the screen. His mind is far from the idea of playing volleyball.

“That’s not what I meant,” he practically forces out. He won’t admit what he  _ did _ mean, anyway. 

There’s a knock at Kei’s door, so he pulls one side of his headphone off and tells Kuroo to wait just a moment before muting himself.

“Yes?” Kei calls out.

Akiteru opens his door, and being the proper obnoxious older brother he is, simply  _ has _ to ask, “What are you up to?”

Kei sighs. “I’m on Skype.”

“With Mr. Cat Captain again?”

Kei doesn’t have the patience nor the will to express his grievances about that nickname, so he just retorts with, “What do you need?”

“You, at the dining table. Mom made lunch and it's been days since you’ve joined us. She’s getting really restless, Kei.”

_ “Be a good son and put your internal crises aside for 15 measly minutes”  _ is what Kei heard instead.

Kei readies his mask, the one that takes an entire day’s worth of willpower to wear for even a short time, but if it keeps his mother away from another breakdown...

“Fine. I’ll be there in a sec.” Akiteru nods at that and closes the door behind him. Kei replaces the missing headphone and unmutes himself.

“Hey, sorry. My brother. I have to go join my family for lunch,” Kei can hear the life has gone from his voice, which he better fix real fucking quick before he walks out of that door.

Kuroo can obviously sense the tension. He was probably watching Kei throughout the entire conversation. “No worries, Tsukki. I’ll be home all day, alright? Enjoy your lunch.”

“I’ll try.” is all he says before he hits the end call button. He stands up, rolls his shoulders, and takes in a huge breath. This isn’t going to be good.

Kei opens his door and pads over to the dining room. He can already hear Akiteru reassuring his mother’s fussing over him transferring from the wheelchair to the dining table seat.

“You’ve gotten so much stronger already, sweetheart,” their mother says, with all the pride and affection in the world.

Kei stops abruptly at that. At least one of them has.

The two notice him then, Akiteru giving him a thankful nod and his mother giving him a wide smile. Except her eyes aren’t smiling.

“Kei, thank you for joining us,” she says, pulling a chair out for him.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he mumbles, looking at the plate of food in front of him. It’s just some onigiri and korokke, but the sight makes him dizzy. He’s really not hungry as it is, and forcing it is only going to trigger him. Fuck.

Their mother fills each of their plates for them, Akiteru giving her a sun-shiny thank you as she gives him three onigiri and korokke each. She hesitates as she turns to Kei, but decides on one onigiri and two korokke. He thanks her quietly. 

Their mother joins them at the table and after a chorus of “itadakimasu” they all get to eating. Kei picks up the onigiri, because rice is generally a safe choice for him. The other two start chatting about how awful the weather has been lately, and if Kei had half a mind to be an asshole he’d comment too, but he doesn’t. 

By the time Kei has finished nibbling the outer parts of rice from his onigiri, Akiteru has plowed through over half of his plate. Kei ignores his mother’s side glances, instead notices Akiteru putting his last onigiri down in favor of flipping his phone open.

His eyes go from shocked to sad as he sighs out, “Ah, man…”

“What is it, dear?” Their mother asks. 

“Uh,” Akiteru hesitates, looking to Kei, who’s frozen in place. It can’t be. “Karasuno lost in the first round of the qualifiers.”

Kei drops the remainder of his onigiri. “What? Wait. Who told you?”

“Tadashi just messaged me.”

_ Way to play messenger pigeon _ , Kei thinks sarcastically. He and Yamaguchi haven’t spoken since their fight. 

“Who did they lose to? By how much?”

“Dateko. 25-17 and 25-19.”

“ _ Shit.”  _ Kei hisses. He gets a double scolding for swearing, but he doesn’t care. Are you fucking kidding me? The first round? Dateko took their victory away from them in the finals last year. For them to face off again and so early in the tournament is frustrating as hell. 

If Kei had been there.  _ If Kei had been there. _

His head is foggy he doesn’t realize how violently he stands up, shaking the entire dining table as he does so. 

“Kei, calm down,” Akiteru warns.

“This is my fault,” he says, but his voice is far, far away. 

“Kei.” His brother’s voice rings out. That’s right. This, and so much more. All Kei’s fault.

The entire room is spinning, but a combination of his mother’s hand on his arm and Akiteru shouting his name once more snaps him back into focus.

“Listen to me,” Akiteru says firmly, “This is not your fault. You have no reason to blame yourself for this. It’s a frustrating outcome, I know, but you guys still have the Spring Tournament, so—” Kei tunes the rest out.

He felt something inside him bend since Kuroo mentioned the training camps, but that does it. It snaps.

“How can you say that so easily?” Kei’s voice is broken, but his eyes reflect nothing but pure frustration.

Akiteru hesitates, clearly not understanding. “What are you talking about?”

“Bringing up Spring Tournament like that's a guarantee, when it’s already June and I still can barely leave my room without falling apart.”

“Come on, Kei. Give yourself a break. It’s not gonna be like this forever.” The pity in his brother’s voice makes him sick. 

“HOW CAN  _ YOU _ SAY THAT?” Kei shouts, fists shaking at his sides. He can feel the lump in his throat rising and despite his nature doesn’t bother fighting it down. “Look at yourself, Nii-chan.” His voice breaks and his eyesight is blurry. “You’re stuck in that god-forsaken chair and even though they say walking is a possibility again here you are, still eons away from that kind of progress. And yet you can look me dead in the eyes and tell me I’ll be able to participate in a full blown volleyball tournament in a few months despite how I’ve been doing?”

“You’re ignoring a really important piece of information there, Kei,” Akiteru half-shouts back at him, “there’s a possibility.”

Kei clicks his tongue.

“Don’t give me that childish bullshit, Kei. Do you know how  _ lucky _ I am that there’s even a possibility I will walk again? It could have been so much worse. I can only be grateful that’s an outcome I can work toward.”

“If it weren’t for me--”

“Stop.” Akiteru raises his voice loud enough to silence Kei, then regains his composure. “I refuse to listen to you put the blame on yourself all over again. We’ve been over this. This isn’t your fault, and neither is Karasuno’s loss. Quit purposefully making yourself so damn miserable.”

“What, you think I  _ want _ to be miserable?” Kei snaps.

“In a way? Yeah. I think you’ve put so much blame on yourself for what happened you’ve subconsciously decided that what you’re going through now is some sort of sick justice that you deserve, so you refuse to let yourself see a way out. And frankly, I’m tired of watching you do this to yourself.”

Kei can’t find the words to argue against that. He tries and he tries, but he has no defense. He just gets angrier.

A sob breaks out next to him. He completely forgot their mother has been sitting there the whole time.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she chokes out, then stands and hurries out of the room. 

“Mom!” Akiteru calls after her, but there’s nothing but her muffled cries until the sound of a door shutting silences them.

Akiteru turns daggers at Kei. “I’m done babying you. What you’re going through is serious. It’s not to be taken lightly but god dammit Kei you’re not  _ hopeless. _ You refuse to let yourself see the progress you’ve made, and anytime you take a step back you act like you’re back at square one but you’re not. Progress isn’t linear. You’re gonna have setbacks. That’s normal. But only  _ you _ can change your shitty thinking.  _ You _ are in complete control of it, you just refuse to take that control. Stop acting like you’re a lost cause, because you’re not. I don’t know what it’s gonna take to get that through that stubborn head of yours, but it’s the truth.”

Nothing. Kei has nothing to say to that. He just stands there shaking, angry tears pouring over at the ground, chest straining for breath.

Akiteru sighs, clearly spent, and begins transferring himself back down to his wheelchair. Kei doesn’t watch him, but hears the wheels as they turn to head out of the room. They stop for a moment as Akiteru calls over his shoulder, “And send Tadashi a message. I shouldn’t have to play telephone for you and your best friend.”

Kei violently wipes an arm underneath his glasses, ridding his face of the tears he couldn’t control. The shake of his limbs slowly starts to creep into the foreboding tingling that compliments his attacks nearly each time, so he shoves the dining chair out of the way and hurries back to his room.

Slamming his door behind him he instantly grabs at his headphones, shoving them onto his head with too much force. He’s overflowing with pent up anger, mostly at himself, so he doesn’t second guess the extra violence in his movements.

Music blasts into his ears as he sits on his bed, clawing at his knees and huffing through scattered breaths.

_ You think I  _ _ want _ _ to be miserable? _

You know what, yeah, maybe Akiteru is right. Maybe he does want to be miserable. Why should he be happy anyway? Life hasn’t exactly been the kindest to him as it is, so along the way he decided that he will never go walking along wearing the god forsaken rose-colored glasses his brother still manages to wear despite being  _ paralyzed from the waist down. _

If Kei dared to believe in possibilities, dared to believe in the idea of him progressing enough to participate in the next tournament, but in the end was still as hopeless as he is now...what then? All hoping leads to is disappointment. That’s what life has taught him over the years. Sure, he’s had a few brief instances that made him think maybe it’s worth putting a little faith in himself, in possibilities, but in recent months that’s all been obliterated.

It doesn’t matter whether or not Akiteru thinks Kei is hopeless or not, he has no idea what it’s like inside his head. He has no idea what it’s like every single fucking night. There’s no end in sight that Kei can see, it’s not so easy to just flip some mental switch and suddenly believe he’s going to be okay.

Plus, it’s safer this way. It’s safer to ignore his hopes and wants and wishes, because then he’ll never have to face the inevitable disappointment.

His phone buzzes in his hand. He glances at it through tired eyes.

**14:03**

**Kuroo-san: hey i have to head out for just a bit, i should be home in less than an hour just in case you still wanna hang out!**

Kei stares at the message but no response comes to mind. Instead, it’s that realization that hits him. The one he’s been having over and over, especially recently. He  _ has _ been hoping, he  _ has _ been giving into certain possibilities. But it’s all pointless. Even if his wildest dreams were to become a reality, he can’t be the person Kuroo deserves.

He can’t.

He  _ can’t. _

But god, he wants to be.

He throws himself backwards on his bed, gritting his teeth, hissing out breath after breath and digs his palms into his eyelids. He curses Kuroo silently, because the thought of him alone makes him question everything he just told himself.

_ “You’re far from weak, Tsukki.” _

That’s beyond false. But...

_ “Of course you can't just believe something like that like it’s a fairy tale epiphany.” _

Exactly. That’s exactly right. But...

_ “But you’ve got me.” _

A small cry escapes Kei’s lips as he recalls Kuroo’s voice, so crisp and clear in his head, so tangible it’s louder than whatever song is playing at the moment.

He forgot. He completely forgot what he had told Kuroo that day. 

_ “I can’t say I believe it myself, the whole strong thing, but I want to.” _

He wants to. He wants to believe that, he wants to believe he isn’t just this useless burden. He wants to get better, because if he does…

He can see Kuroo again.

His breathing has begun to calm down. He throws an arm over his face and dryly laughs despite himself. His brother was just cursing at him over what it would take to get through to him, but the answer has been here this whole time.

“This is so fucking cliche,” Kei says to his ceiling.

Still, this really isn’t a fairy tale. This is real life, no matter how much he wants to, he won’t just wake up tomorrow and be better. 

He sighs, still staring up at his ceiling. The exhaustion from everything that just happened weighs heavily on his eyelids, so he lets them slide shut. It doesn’t take much time for his brain to give in, too.

It’s not for long, but Kei dreams. He dreams of unruly hair and a snide smile. He dreams of kind hands and a comforting presence. The dream is too blurry to make out clear details, but his brain can make the connection nonetheless.

He wakes about an hour later, headphones crooked against his head. Groaning, he slides them off and follows the chord down to his phone, flipping it over and clicking it awake.

His eyes blink rapidly awake at the awaiting notifications he’s met with.

**14:42**

**Kuroo-san: i’m hoooome!**

**15:10**

**Kuroo-san: everything good?**

He checks the time which reads 15:24, so the last message wasn’t sent too long ago. Regardless, he suddenly feels guilty for worrying him, so his fingers start moving immediately.

**15:25**

**Me: hey, sorry. bit of drama at lunch today so i knocked out for a bit. i’m okay, though.**

He palms at his chest, which is rising and falling at a natural pace. He is okay, all things considered. Acknowledging that in itself is probably an important thing to start doing, he thinks.

**15:25**

**Kuroo-san: oh man...i’m sorry but glad you’re doing alright. do you wanna talk about it?**

Kei gnaws at his lower lip. As much as he wants to jump back onto Skype with Kuroo, there’s something else nagging at him that he can’t ignore any longer.

**15:26**

**Me: there’s something i gotta take care of first. can i text you a little later?**

**15:26**

**Kuroo-san: sure thing, take your time!**

Kei takes a deep breath and switches out of his chat with Kuroo. He scrolls past an unread message from Bokuto which he’s been meaning to finally respond to, then a brief convo he had with Akaashi from the other day, then finally reaches the chat he wanted.

His fingers freeze as his brain searches for the right thing to say. Anything to say, rather. It’s in his nature to hate these kinds of uncomfortable situations, but it takes two to tango so he bites back his pride for just this once.

**15:30**

**Me: Hey. I’m sorry to hear about today.**

Send. That’s the best he could manage, given the circumstances. Whether it’ll be enough or not, he’s not sure, so he just stares at the chat. He stares and stares, anxiety and a few other unwelcome feelings boiling back up in his gut as he waits for the little  _ Read _ tag to appear next to his message.

It does.

He grips his phone with both hands and his heart starts racing in his chest. Once again the question is whether or not a reply will come. If it doesn’t, he can’t say he won’t understand. But if it does…

**15:33**

**Tadashi: Hey. Yeah, it sucks.**

Kei lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. This is uncomfortable on so many levels, but he’s tired of all the silence, all the unresolved tension, and he had a feeling that just maybe Yamaguchi was, too. 

**15:33**

**Me: Spring Interhigh. We’ll make it.**

He hesitates for just a moment, looking once more at the wording he chose. 

“We.”

He hits send, although a very loud part of him is calling himself an idiot for doing so. It’s not going to be easy, trying to get better.  _ Believing _ he can get better. This is all he can do for now, but at least it’s something.

**15:34**

**Tadashi: Yeah, we will.**

Kei sets his phone on the bed and rubs his hands down his face. First, they’ve gotta get rid of this tension. Knowing Yamaguchi, he’ll stay on the waiting end after how firm Kei was about wanting him out during their fight. Which means…

He lets out a long sigh and grabs his phone again. 

**15:36**

**Me: You busy tomorrow?**

**15:46**

**Tadashi: Considering today’s outcome, no. Why?**

Kei winces a little at that, but it’s fine. 

**Me: I was gonna ask if you could swing by.**

Five minutes. Five excruciatingly long minutes, the longest five minutes Kei thinks he’s ever felt, but finally his phone buzzes with a reply.

**15:51**

**Tadashi: Sure, I can do that.**

**Me: Cool. See you then**

Kei really is a sore loser, though he hates to admit it. Above all, he hates to admit the fact that he’s been allowing himself to lose this entire goddamn time. He still doesn’t believe in fairy tale endings, and he definitely doesn’t believe in miracles. Even the word “possibility” still somehow feels too fluffy for him. However, mathematically speaking, there is a certain “probability” in which the scenario of him making progress exists. Therefore, there’s also a certain probability in which he will join the team again. See Kuroo again. He knows it’s ridiculously illogical to actually attempt an accurate calculation. This is real life and not a math problem, after all. Regardless, it  _ is _ probable, so if he looks at it from that angle...maybe, just maybe, he can try to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Rose Colored Boy - Paramore
> 
> Since the very beginning of planning out this fic I have been looking forward to writing this chapter. Please continue to root for Kei, you are all so lovely and I appreciate every single one of you reading, whether you make yourselves known in the comments or are a silent reader. I appreciate you so much and hope you are well.
> 
> p.s. I'm keeping as true to the canon timeline as I possibly can, and found nothing about Karasuno’s results in their third year Miyagi Qualifiers, so I took my creative liberty with that!


	10. there will be light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> all i have to say is grab some tissue you may need them  
> (in a good way)  
> (i hope)
> 
> **FOR EXTRA EMOTION: Prepare the song Hikari Are (Haikyuu Season 3 OP) and play it when Kei goes to his room and puts his headphones on :)

**_June 8th, Afternoon_ **

Who invented feelings? Who decided you know what, I’m going to make humans capable of a wide range of unpleasant emotions? Kei really has a bone to pick with that person, because his stomach is in knots and it’s incredibly uncomfortable.

**13:57**

**Tadashi: I’ll be there soon!!**

Kei has been staring at the message for a solid five minutes now, realizing exactly what it entails. Yamaguchi. Coming over. With all this lingering tension and awkwardness.

...Fantastic.

When it comes to emotions, Kei has always been one to let things calm down with time. No need for dramatics, no need to address them, they’ll go away on their own. Guys are like that, right? Argue one day and be bro’s again the next. This situation however...is not quite like that. Regrettably. 

There are deep wounds on both ends, he’s sure of it, which means he’s probably going to have to... _ ugh. Apologize.  _ But he won’t let Yamaguchi get away Scott-Free either. After all, Kei’s sharp tongue was all because of what Yamaguchi did to him in the first place. God, this is already so uncomfortable and he’s not even here yet.

Kei types a quick response and hovers in the hallway against the wall, waiting for the ring of the doorbell. When it comes, he takes a deep breath and swears to never fight with his best friend ever again because this already sucks.

He opens the door and there stands Yamaguchi. He looks exactly the same as he did the last time he stood there, positively radiating tense, awkward energy.

“Hey,” Yamaguchi says, preoccupied with a strand of his hair.

Kei rolls his eyes. “Quit being awkward, come inside.”

Yamaguchi jolts a little at that then gives the smallest of laughs as he says, “Sorry, haha…”

Maybe it’s the way his laugh sounded so forced, but it doesn’t bring Kei any comfort. He glances once at the sky and sees nothing but the sun and a string of white clouds, so he silently calls out to that twisted weather god of his,  _ “You better not let me down now. _ ”

He holds the door open and moves aside so Yamaguchi can come in. He steps up outside of the entrance as Yamaguchi silently removes his shoes, then turns for his bedroom without a word.

Given the palpable tension, he wants to appear as non-threatening as possible, so he plops himself down in his chair and motions for Yamaguchi to take the bed.

“So,” Kei says, leaving the word hanging in the dead air for a few seconds too long, “Been a while.”

“It’s really only been just over a week but, yeah…” Yamaguchi retorts, eyes everywhere but on Kei.

He sighs. God, he hates this kind of stuff. Has he mentioned how much he hates this kind of stuff? Despite that, Kei is turning into someone who actually  _ initiates _ conversations. Maybe hell has finally frozen over after all.

“Sorry to hear about yesterday. Really.” Kei waits for Yamaguchi’s gaze to finally meet his, considering the mere sound of him even uttering the word “sorry” is in itself a phenomenon.

Yamaguchi’s eyes are as wide as saucers, but then blinks his gaze back down to the ground and says, “It’s fine. It wasn’t surprising. We didn’t have a chance without—“ Yamaguchi stops himself, stammering a string of “Uh, I mean, um,” before he settles with, “We just haven’t connected as a team just yet. The new first years are good... they just need to learn how to blend in with our already fine-tuned motions ya know?”

Kei hums at that. Under any other circumstances, he’d give Yamaguchi hell for that little slip up. Obviously he knows what he was going to say, but he’s thankful he caught himself. Kei really doesn’t want to hear that, he blames himself enough as it is.

Neither of them say anything for a while. Kei has thought about this conversation enough to know exactly what he wants to ask, but quite frankly, he’s scared of the answer. But if he wants to get rid of this crippling awkwardness he’s got to just speak up.

“Listen.” Kei leans forward in his chair, “I think, in order for me to accept the team knowing about everything, I need you to explain to me in detail exactly what their reactions were. Anything they said, too. I want to know ahead of time before I ever face them again.”

Yamaguchi knits his eyebrows together, tucking his hands between his knees. “Tsukki, first I just want to apologize again. It wasn’t my place. I never meant to hurt you and it was selfish of me to tell them without coming to you about how I was feeling first. I’m sorry, I am so, so sorry Tsukki.”

Kei really doesn’t want Yamaguchi to start crying again, so he nods in understanding and says, “I appreciate your apology.”

Yamaguchi’s shoulders relax at that. “I’m...glad…thank you.” His hands, however, are still tucked tightly between his knees.

Now here comes the part Kei  _ really _ wishes he could skip. But for Yamaguchi, he’ll suck it up this once. “I know I was really harsh. I’m sorry for reacting as strongly as I did.”

That makes a second “sorry” uttered from Tsukishima Kei’s mouth today, but this time it’s actually a reflection of his own actions. Yamaguchi’s face is hilarious, really. Is it  _ that _ shocking?

“It’s...it’s okay, Tsukki. I understand what I did hurt you a lot. I don’t blame you. It was my first real time on the receiving end of your fury though, can’t say I want to experience that again,” he laughs awkwardly, finally freeing his hands to play with a strand of his hair.

Kei huffs at that. “I don’t think you ever will.”

Yamaguchi lets out a big sigh, slightly grinning at the ground. “That’s a relief. Oh!” He jolts his head up so fast that piece of hair that always stands up bounces around. “I’m sorry, you wanted me to uh, tell you..?”

“Right. As much as you can remember. I just...I need to know,” Kei says, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees.

Yamaguchi swallows loudly but nods in understanding. “Got it. Okay, um, so...I had told Coach the day before so he could get the documents finished on time. When it came to our team meeting that Wednesday, he announced to everyone that you wouldn’t be joining us. That’s when Hinata spoke out…”

That’s right. Kei remembers him mentioning it was Hinata that threw a fit over him not playing. That’s just like him, he thinks. So obstinate he would dare refuse a competition without every player. He still can’t quite wrap his mind around Hinata’s fervor, but the fact that the thought of Kei being missing for a competition upset him makes him feel the slightest amount of appreciation for his otherwise obnoxious teammate.

“If I recall correctly, he said ‘I don’t want to play a competition without Tsukishima, even if he pisses me off a lot, he’s vital to our team!’ and asked if there was really no way you could possibly join us,” Yamaguchi continues.

Kei clicks his tongue. “What a back-handed compliment.” Regardless, the appreciation still somehow stands.

“Yeah...then Coach was at a loss for words. He kept looking to me like I should say something, not just as the captain but as your best friend. I was so torn Tsukki, I know it’s hard to understand but I just  _ had _ to tell them--”

“I know, Yamaguchi,” Kei interrupts. Frankly, he’s tired of hearing the excuses. Even if he forgives him it’s not going to remove the scar in his chest that burns every time he brings it up. “Just...tell me their reactions.”

Yamaguchi hangs his head a little, voice small. “Yeah, sorry, okay.” He clears his throat and tilts his head as if he’s really trying to recall every little detail. “So, after I stood up and explained, both Hinata and Kageyama seemed just really confused. They said things like ‘I don’t get it’ or ‘What does that mean?’ I do remember it was Kageyama that asked ‘Is he gonna be okay?’.” 

Kei winces. He still thinks about the day Kageyama came over and saw him in his hung-over, pathetic state. Despite the fact that Kei fundamentally understands people are worried about him, it still makes him feel weird having it become so concrete.

Yamaguchi didn’t catch Kei’s reaction, so he continues, “The second years didn’t really say anything, and of course the first years don’t even know you yet, so they didn’t either. Yachi, however, spoke up after Kageyama. She was pretty nervous, but she told everyone that what you’re going through is nothing to be ashamed of, but it is difficult and we should all support you and respect the time you need to recover.”

Yachi...she’s always been a jittery, nervous, but kind person. Could it be she understands like Kenma does…? Kei can’t help but grit his teeth at the thought of “support” from people like Hinata and Kageyama, but he’s grateful for the respect part, at least. As for this being nothing to be ashamed of...well. Kei still isn’t at the point where he can say he isn’t ashamed, but he appreciates the thought anyway.

“That was nice of her,” Kei offers. 

Yamaguchi quirks his lips at that. “Yeah, honestly Tsukki, I think she’s had an idea of what’s been going on this whole time, but being her, she never wanted to press the subject. She’s a worrier for sure, but also really perceptive.”

Kei smirks. “Adorable. You’re a good match.”

Yamaguchi literally chokes on his own spit and turns beet red in less than a second. Flailing helplessly, he half-shouts, “Tsukki?! Don’t--don’t say that!!”

A laugh. A real laugh escapes Kei’s throat and it surprises the both of them. All of the tension, all of the awkwardness, it’s all bleeding away. Slowly but steadily it goes, re-exposing the stone foundation of their decade-long friendship.

In the end, what Yamaguchi told him isn’t as bad as what Kei’s wildest anxiety-fueled delusions forced him to believe. No matter what, it’ll be uncomfortable and a little awkward to face them all again. But...maybe, just maybe, he really can do this.

There’s a few beats of silence again, but this time it’s comfortable, and Kei finally makes his decision. “I see my doctor on Tuesday,” he says.

Yamaguchi huffs a laugh at that, “I know, you go every Tuesday.”

“I’m going to ask her if it’s possible for me to start phasing into regular school attendance again.”

Yamaguchi squeaks out a “Huh?!” so fast he startles himself. “Tsukki…are you sure?”

“No, not really. But if I let myself stay in this rut I’ll never get out. I want to test the waters a bit, see what I can handle.”

“Wow,” Yamaguchi seems positively starstruck by this. Is it really that surprising of a thing for him to say? “That’s...that’s great, Tsukki. When are you hoping to start coming back?”

Kei fiddles with his hands. Now this is embarrassing. “I...want to be well enough to go with the team to the Tokyo Training Camp.”

Yamaguchi’s jaw finally shuts at that and he lifts a hand immediately to try and hide his smile. “I see, you’ve really had some motivation, haven’t you?”

Kei can feel himself flush so he glares and fires off the usual, “Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry Tsukki!” The automatic reply comes, so natural and easy. It puts Kei’s mind at ease.

“There’s a pretty big chance I won’t actually be able to play, given the physical state of my body at the moment, but I could at least participate in light warm ups and familiarize myself with how the new team is.”

“That makes sense. It would be amazing to have you there with us, but I don’t want you pushing yourself too much in order to do so…” Yamaguchi’s eyebrows knit together just enough to convey the genuine concern Kei already knows is there.

“I’ll be fine. I really want to do this.” The determination in Kei’s voice is so strong, it’s a bit unsettling to him. He can also hear a faint voice in the back of his head warning him he’s going too far. He ignores it, and just looks back at his best friend who he really has missed these past however many days.

“Well, you know I’m behind you all the way.” Yamaguchi smiles, putting a fist to his chest.

“Captain Yamaguchi, King of Saying Cheesy Shit has returned, oh happy day!” Kei sneers, sending him into a fit of giggles.

It’s then Kei realizes once again what a shitty friend he is. Yamaguchi is now  _ captain _ of the volleyball team, and he doesn’t know how anything has been going because he’s been too selfish to want to hear about it. Well, there’s always a starting point somewhere, so he asks him about it. Yamaguchi all too excitedly jumps into a marathon of stories, sometimes acting out real scenarios, making Kei grin and shake his head at the same time. 

He stays for dinner, which Akiteru and his mother are overly happy about. Kei shows him a few of his recent favorite Kodzuken videos and they laugh and jump at the same scenes, once again sitting together on top of that solid, stone foundation. 

Thinking about it now, it’s been months since things have been this way. Relaxed, easy, fun. Yamaguchi has been over quite a few times since the accident, but they’ve never been able to actually enjoy themselves like this. Kei had always had his personal rain cloud over his head and the weight of a thousand demons grabbing at his chest, so he never had the energy to fake happiness or enjoyment.

He’s not faking it now, and that’s what’s throwing him through a loop. To say happiness is a foreign concept may be going too far, but that’s really what it feels like. For a while he felt like he lost it entirely. He didn’t know if or when he would ever be able to feel happiness again because he completely  _ forgot _ what it felt like to be happy. Now, in this moment with his best friend, he’s not sure how long it’ll last. Just like with every call with Kuroo, he takes what he can get and is grateful for it. Going forward, all he can do is use these moments as fuel to the fire to fight when it seems like they will never come again.

The sun that shone so bright all day finally begins to set, and Yamaguchi laments about an English assignment he has yet to finish, so Kei walks with him to the door.

Yamaguchi puts his shoes on, and before grabbing for the handle turns around to Kei with a wide smile and says, “Thanks for letting me come over today, I had a really fun time.”

Kei tries to hide back his smile but fails, so he returns the sentiment. After a “Yeah, yeah.” in response to Yamaguchi’s “And make sure you tell me how your doctor appointment goes!”, he shuts the door behind him.

There’s something swelling in Kei’s chest, and if he doesn’t do something about it now he thinks he might explode, so he turns straight back into his room.

He immediately finds his headphones, puts them on, and finds the song he was looking for. Then, he heads to his closet.

He slides the door open and starts pushing hangers out of the way until he reaches the very back. He grabs one specific hanger and pulls it out of the closet, shaking it a little to rid a few wrinkles. 

A black and orange jersey, sporting the number three.

**_“Faced with a towering wall, and demons that feast upon anxiety...”_ **

Kei turns around, eyeing the hook beside his bedroom door that has remained empty for the past 2 months. His feet move on their own, as do his arms, and suddenly the empty space feels whole again.

“ **_The only thing that can drill an air of hope...”_ **

He turns back to his closet, this time crouching down and half-crawling inside until he can reach the very back corner and feel what he was looking for. He rolls it forward with his fingers until he can grab onto it with both hands and pull it out. This has been in the closet a bit longer than the jersey, so it’s gathered up a surprising amount of dust that Kei immediately brushes off.

**_“Is the slightest possibility...”_ **

His volleyball. The one he and Akiteru always would play with in their backyard when he was younger, but was retired as just a display item on his desk when he left for college. Kei thinks it wouldn’t hurt to fill that empty space for now, too.

**_“And courage to believe until the end”_ **

He takes a step back and looks at his desk space. He can’t help but feel a twinge of normalcy, but it’s an old normalcy. Not the kind that’s been plaguing him day in and day out as of late, but certainly not old enough to be nostalgic. No...this is what his normalcy used to be, what it  _ should _ be.

What it could be again.

“ **_Shout it out, at full volume_ **

**_There will be light”_ **

*****

**_June 10th, Afternoon_ **

Kei sits in the clinic waiting room in the seat furthest back in the corner, headphones on. He only briefly takes them off to greet the receptionist and hand her his insurance and appointment cards, then back on they go. Without the solace of his music, the clinic atmosphere would easily swallow him whole.

The clinic itself isn’t threatening in the slightest, it’s the white noise that screams “mental health facility” which drives Kei up a wall. The leak of the water dispenser dripping every two seconds, the tapping of keyboards, the “calming” music that dances around the room doing the exact opposite for Kei as it’s supposed to do. Then there’s the smell, but he can’t escape that. The faint alcohol scent that signifies adequate hygiene and cleanliness of the place, but it’s masked by the incense burner furiously pumping frankincense into the air. Kei doesn’t like this smell, because again, he  _ knows _ it’s meant for mental healing. If he had an incense burner he’d fill it with strawberry scent. Or maybe lemon. Something refreshing and not so depressing. What’s Kuroo’s favorite scent..?

Kei gets so lost in thought it takes him a while to notice Dr. Mishiya standing in the hallway, waving her hands at him to invite him into her office. He nods his head at her in apology and pulls himself off of the too-low chair, putting his headphones on his shoulders as he follows behind her.

He shuts the door behind him and does a brief look around her office, still is as familiar as ever. Bookshelves line the back wall, head to toe filled with self-help and recovery books she has tried to thrust at Kei on more than one occasion. There’s a wide window cater-corner to the bookshelves, lined with an array of cacti and artistic figurines. Without having to look he lowers himself down into the chair and looks up at Dr. Mishiya, who has already settled herself behind her desk, looking at him with a curious expression.

“So, how are you doing?” she asks, just as she does every week.

Unlike every week, Kei looks her straight in the eye and almost immediately replies, “I’m doing well, thank you.”

Her eyes go slightly wide and she starts typing away at her keyboard. “That’s wonderful!” she replies happily, tone poorly hiding its curiosity. “Did something happen this week?”

Kei fiddles with his fingers. It has been quite a week now that he thinks about it. “A lot happened this week, but I’m okay. I’m doing alright.”

Dr. Mishiya continues typing but keeps her eyes on Kei. “How have your attacks been?”

“A bit sporadic. Not every night, and a few times I was able to pull myself out of them,” he says, recalling every time he started having an attack but a text from Kuroo helped ground him out of it.

“That’s good to hear!” Continuous typing. “Was it an outside source that helped pull you out, or within yourself?”

Kei looks away at that, hands going flat against themselves and in between his knees. “I guess it was an outside source…” he admits quietly.

The typing gets quicker. “That’s still great, Kei. Finding an outside coping mechanism is great progress.”

Is that all Kuroo is to him? A coping mechanism? Kei’s head spins. No. No that’s not true at all. He just happens to be one of the few things that can help him on a particularly difficult day. He completely rejects the notion of him being a simple coping mechanism.

“Right…” is all he can pull out. He watches as Dr. Mishiya continues typing and wonders just what on earth his file looks like. He shakes his head a little. He keeps getting distracted, but he came here today with something to discuss.

He pulls in a quiet but deep breath, which gains Dr. Mishiya’s attention so he meets her eyes and says, “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

Dr. Mishiya smiles a little. “I could tell there was something different about you today, in a good way. Of course, what is it?”

On any other occasion Kei would be miffed that he was so easily read, but this is his doctor after all. He straightens up a little bit, maintaining her gaze. “I wanted to ask your opinion on me phasing back into school activities. Specifically volleyball. Even if I can’t actually play, I’d like the permission to attend the summer training camp that takes place in Tokyo. My team lost in the first round of the Miyagi Qualifiers, and I can't help but feel responsible. If anything I just want to go to watch and familiarize myself with how our new team operates and—“

Dr. Mishiya holds up a hand to stop him. “Well, I think this is the most I’ve heard you speak all at once since we met,” she says, not unkindly, then continues, “I understand your feelings. I know club activities can be extremely important especially as a third year, but I will admit I am very hesitant to approve something as major as a full summer camp in Tokyo. You are still in the very beginning of recovery, you cannot afford to push yourself.”

Kei’s hands have found their way to his knees where he grips them hard. “I understand, but I really want to do this. I think if I limit myself to just observing, there really isn’t any physical threat to trigger an attack.”

“That’s true, but you must think of everything else. Correct me if I’m wrong, but my image of a school training camp involves a long bus ride, unfamiliar lodging in a cramped space, scheduled eating times, and above all, no privacy. If I know you at all Kei, any single one of those things could easily trigger you at your current stage.”

Frustration. Pure frustration. Kei can’t even argue with her. He’s well aware of how terrifying each of those aspects of the trip are to him when he really thinks about it, but this whole time he’s been focusing on one major point completely unrelated to this conversation.

_ God dammit. _ This doesn’t look like it’s going to work out in his favor, but he will do anything at this point. At some point, he doesn’t know when, but the idea of this training camp became the biggest motivation for him. (Okay, he knows when, and damn well why, but the point still stands).

Time to negotiate, then.

“What kind of progress would you need to see from me in order to approve of this trip?” Kei asks, firmly.

Dr. Mishiya’s expression changes to reflect Kei’s seriousness. “That’s difficult to say, Kei. A month can bring much progress, but there’s no guarantee it would be enough for something like this.”

“Please.”

Surprise? No. Shock. That’s all he can see in his doctor’s eyes. Up until now he has shown her nothing but a monotone, robotic version of himself just trying to get the whole meds business over with. So this...this is entirely new for the both of them.

She sighs lightly. “Just a moment, please,” she says, then starts clicking away at her computer, narrowing her gaze and humming from time to time. The printer beside her desk starts whirring. Every hair on Kei’s body stands on edge. 

Finally, she turns back to him and folds her hands on top of the desk. Her eyes aren’t any less kind, but they are far more stern than he has ever seen them. “I will tell you right now I am not going to make a decision today. There is a little over one month until this trip, correct?”

“That’s correct. About 6 weeks.” Kei’s nerves are on fire.

Dr. Mishiya nods, and lets out a small sigh. “We will continue to meet every week and monitor your progress very closely. I need you to be  _ completely  _ honest with me about everything. I’m also going to ask you to fill this out every day.” She grabs for a paper she had previously printed and hands it to Kei.

**Daily Eating Log**

Kei’s stomach sinks as he examines the page. It’s a detailed form, separating each day into different time slots meant to log what was eaten at what time.

“I would like you to fill this out every day. I understand this is a big hurdle for you, but there must be progress in this area in order for me to feel comfortable sending you off to a sports training camp.”

“I...understand,” Kei replies, heart rate instinctually increasing at the concept of force-eating. But if this is what it’ll take…

“There’s also one more thing for now, and I already know you will not be happy about it, but I believe it is vital in order to really get these attacks under control.”

Kei’s heart drops this time. No...she can’t mean…

“I’m increasing Xanax to three times a day. Once in the morning with your meal, once in the afternoon with your meal, and once in the evening also with your meal.”

Kei is silent. He doesn’t need to say anything, just as she said, she knew he wouldn’t be happy about this.  _ Fuck.  _ Seriously? He feels like he’s at a crossroad. Up until now he’s been half heartedly shuffling down his road to recovery, but when he came to a bridge he didn’t want to cross, he’d choose a roundabout detour instead. Now there’s not only a bridge, but man-eating sharks at the bottom, missing planks, and an unstable foundation. It’s daunting, it goes against every stubborn bone in his body, but he’s being presented with no other choice. There’s no detour this time.

“Fine,” he says, and in his mind he toes at the first plank of the bridge. It creaks, and he almost takes his foot off, but he tests it with just a little more weight and sure enough he can put his whole body weight on it.

“I have to say, I’m impressed by you, Kei. You’ve grown so much stronger.”

Has he though? Several people sure seem to think so. When is he going to believe it himself is the question. But, when he imagines those man-eating sharks and the daunting bridge he’s got one full foot on...maybe he has.

“I’m just tired of feeling this way.” The words surprise Kei. He didn’t mean to say that out loud but now they’re out there, they’ve become truth spoken out into the world and he can’t take them back. He doesn’t want to, anyway.

“I know. But you are on the right track, Kei. You seem to have found some true motivation to plow ahead, and that’s an important step in the right direction. This won’t last forever.”

He can’t let it. He has to get better. Just weeks ago he was nothing but ashes, but along the way they sparked into a flame that’s been keeping him going. And oh, it grew. It grew and it grew every day and now, here he is, willing to face demons he had been just letting consume him. He’s bad at recognizing his own progress, but he can recognize desire, and when he has one he  _ will _ work toward it, god dammit.

“Thanks. I’ll do my best.”

Dr. Mishiya smiles fondly at him for a moment before clicking a few more times at her keyboard and wishing him well for the coming week until his next appointment at the same time next Tuesday.

Kei returns her regards and stands up, giving her a longer bow than usual. She’s given him quite the challenge, but as he leaves her office he isn’t scared. He’s got Yamaguchi, he’s got his brother, he’s got Kuroo, and he’s got one hell of a fire inside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As if lighting a fire with every cell in your body,  
> Sucked in a breath with all your might.  
> With blood and sweat as your sacrifice,  
> Desire as your holy fire,  
> Shout it out at full volume  
> There will be light.
> 
> Song: Hikari Are - Burnout Syndromes (lyrics translated)
> 
> So many feelings. So. Many. Feelings.  
> As a side-note, this past weekend I went to Sendai and had the opportunity to attend the Haikyuu Manga Exhibition. It was a once in a lifetime experience. Haikyuu told from beginning to end, Furudate's original real life panels framed for us to appreciate and admire. Walls floor to ceiling covered in blown-up panels and emotional daggers left and right. I cried so much. I seriously stood in front of Tsukki's *moment* panel crying for a solid five minutes. It was just incredible. I also visited Sendai City Gymnasium and got to tour around it and take photos in front of the iconic moon sculpture!! (IT'S HUGE IRL)   
> Anyway, I hope you all are doing well. My life has gotten very busy as of late but I'm trying my best to get the next chapter written in time for next week's update. Stay safe and take care <3


	11. the brightest star in the depths of the ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kei takes a deep breath. He has half a mind to not even bother with what he’s about to do, but sometimes the mind and body do the unexplainable. They move on their own, acting on an instinct they’re drawn to whether you understand it or not. Kei, especially, does not understand, and he tries for a moment to fight against it but he stands up despite himself. Sometimes you do things because somewhere inside you know they have to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> /really/ difficult relationship with food
> 
> **please read the ending notes for an important message about posting schedule changes**

**_June 13th, Evening_ **

“You need to put some meat on your bones, Tsukki!”

“Is that really all you’re gonna eat?”

“For being so tall you really don’t eat much!”

Since he was young Kei has heard every variation of the same backhanded advice.  _ “You should eat more.” _

He’s been called all the names, too. “Bean pole,” “Twig,” “Chopstick,” etc. But they don’t faze him. They never have.

He’s just always been a light eater, that’s all. He can’t control the fact that his stomach gets full significantly faster than most people. Or the fact that it only takes one too many mouthfuls of rice to push him from “full” to “nauseous.”

Over the years he’s learned his limits, learned what foods are safe for him to eat and in exactly what amount. Those close to him learned to stop nagging him about it after doctors said that although his BMI is a bit lower than normal for his height, he is perfectly healthy.

Well, that was before... all of this.

Anxiety manifests itself in people in completely different ways. That’s what makes it so difficult to understand, Kei thinks. He’s reminded of Kenma, and how just the thought of interacting with other people can send him over the edge. Kei doesn’t particularly enjoy interacting with people aside from a select few, but it won’t throw him into an attack.

However, Kei could make a grocery list of situations and activities that trigger his anxiety, but if he had to choose a main threat, it’s food. Rather, it’s the act of eating. Eating is his biggest trigger. A real shame too, considering you need to eat in order to, ya know, live.

He doesn’t understand it, and the doctors he’s consulted about it were never helpful. It’s all a “mental thing”. Because that’s the easiest way to write off something that can’t be immediately diagnosed. He supposes they're right, though. Somewhere along the way his brain got rewired to associate eating with feeling ill. Even something as simple as a plain rice ball can set his stomach off, and that’s when it’s Game Over. Kei has had an irrational fear of being physically ill ever since he was a child, so feeling nauseous equals instant panic.

This seemingly small issue actually snowballs into a complete avalanche of threats. There’s the fear of getting sick, sure, but it’s exacerbated when he’s around others, because god forbid he gets sick around others. Naturally, that becomes the fear of eating around other people. And unfortunately, the rate of panic attacks he started having ended with the fear of eating in general, even if he’s alone.

He doesn’t understand it. No amount of telling himself “It’s just a ball of rice, you’ll be fine.” can prevent his brain from deciding said ball of rice is actually poison. Along the road he just gave up, and eating became something complete undesirable for him. The scariest part is how his body almost seemed to adjust to it. He rarely feels actual hunger anymore, which he  _ knows _ isn’t a good thing. Now that he has to actually monitor his eating habits, it’s only become clearer. 

**Daily Eating Log**

**Wednesday, June 11th:**

1.5 slices of toast, cup of orange juice (8 am)

Half a pack of saltine crackers (11:30 am)

2 boiled eggs (3 pm)

Bowl of white rice (7 pm)

**Thursday, June 12th:**

English muffin (9 am)

1 slice of toast with avocado (12 pm)

3 pieces of broccoli, 2 bites of chicken (7 pm)

1 strawberry (9 pm)

**Friday, June 13th**

2 pieces of toast, banana vitamin jelly (9 am)

1 stick of Calorie Mate* (9 pm)

Kei sighs and drops his pen. Today sucked. He’s been on edge for reasons only the universe knows but won’t share with him, as usual. Because of that, he couldn’t bear to even make himself present at the dinner table. 

God damn it all. There’s gotta be some way to get rid of this awful mental block. It should be mind over matter, but when the sight and smell of the blandest of foods sends his head spinning, what the fuck is he supposed to do then?

The buzz of his phone steals Kei’s mind away from his brooding for just a moment.

**20:42**

**Kuroo-san:** okay seriously, this history class will be the death of me.

Kei smirks for half a second before sighing and putting his head in his hands.

He hasn’t told Kuroo anything. About trying to go to the summer camps, that is. No matter how much he wants to go, Kei is well aware his chances of failure are crippling levels of high. The absolute last thing he wants to do is get Kuroo’s hopes up only to disappoint him. Glancing back at what he has written down for today’s meals, he is so tempted to throw in the towel already. 

**20:44**

**Me:** what brand of torture has fell upon you this week?

**Kuroo-san:** a ten page essay on the meiji period.

**Me:** but that’s such an interesting period? capital moved to tokyo, wars abound, the emperor died, you’ve got plenty of material

**20:45**

**Kuroo-san:** -_-

**Kuroo-san:** tsukki, i like numbers. i like business and management and the occasional chemistry experiment, not ancient lectures that make me want to slam my face against the table and promptly pass out afterward.

**Me:** i could probably give you an entire synopsis on the russo-japanese war right now.

**20:46**

**Kuroo-san:** why is that somehow terrifying

**Me:** my knowledge of ancient war strategy is quite impressive, kuroo-san, you should exercise caution.

**Kuroo-san:** cool, rightly terrified, thank you

**Kuroo-san:** i wonder if i paid daishou enough if he’d write the essay for me…

**20:47**

**Me:** Kuroo-san.

**Kuroo-san:** i’m kiddiinngg. i’d never stoop low enough to ask that dude for a favor. 

**Me:** i think you’re missing the point but okay

**20:48**

**Kuroo-san:** oya? a wild salty-shima has appeared!

**Kuroo-san:** tetsurou used witty pick-up line!

**Me:** …

**Kuroo-san:** it failed!

**Kuroo-san:** tetsurou used strawberry shortcake!

**Me:** istg

**20:49**

**Kuroo-san:** it was super effective!

**Kuroo-san:** tetsurou used a moon-ball!

**Me:** ..

**Me:** …

**Me:** ….

**Kuroo-san:** gotcha! salty-shima was caught!

**Me:** you’re ridiculous 

**Kuroo-san:** give a nickname to the captured salty-shima?

**Me:** don’t even think about it

**20:50**

**Kuroo-san:** aww, i had so many in mind ):

**Me:** the moon ball was a bit on the nose don’t you think?

**Kuroo-san:** perfectly fitting if i do say so myself, you’d definitely evolve with a moon stone.

**Me:** evolve into what exactly?

**Kuroo-san:** guess we’ll have to find out ;)

Kei throws his head back and groans. You know what, he might not even make it to the training camps alive because Kuroo’s gonna kill him before then. His phone buzzes again.

**Kuroo-san:** what’s your favorite pokemon?

**Me:** tropius. you?

**Kuroo-san:** of-fucking-course your favorite pokemon is a literal dinosaur

Kei flushes and scowls simultaneously, glancing up at the display above his desk which has a Tropius plush he got years ago when he and Yamaguchi went to the Sendai Pokemon Center.

**20:51**

**Me:** shut up. what’s your favorite then, persian? luxray? liepard?

**Kuroo-san:** a thousand shades of wrong, tsukki. my fave is arcanine.

**Me:** …..but arcanine is a dog. that completely goes against your brand.

**Kuroo-san:** impressive observation. however it would seem you made a fatal error in assuming that my nekoma legacy meant i was a cat person.

**Me:** ...huh?

**Kuroo-san:** oh yeah. i’m 100% a dog person tsukki, sorry to burst your bubble.

Internal server error. TsukishimaKei.exe has stopped working. Everything Kei has come to know in life has been a lie. Nothing makes sense. He feels like that “steel is heavier than feathers” guy.

**20:52**

**Me:** this is sacrilege.

**Kuroo-san:** i can’t believe you’ve been stereotyping me this whole time...i’m hurt…

**Me:** everything in my life is a lie.

**Kuroo-san:** you crack me up tsukki. which did you get, anyway? omega ruby or alpha sapphire? i got ruby.

**Me:** alpha sapphire. but the original sapphire reigns superior.

**Kuroo-san:** oh god you’re one of /those/ people? do you complain about movie adaptations/remakes and shit too?

**Me:** yes.

**20:53**

**Kuroo-san:** ...at least you’re self aware

**Me:** aware that i’m correct? why yes, thank you.

He’s gotten so used to their back and forths that now he just sits back in his chair with his phone is his hands watching his messages immediately have “read” appear under them. He waits twenty, ten, sometimes only 5 seconds and there’s his reply. So when he’s met with the read notification for longer than a few minutes he can’t help but feel a little anxious.

**20:57**

**Kuroo-san:** forgive me for prying, but are you okay? did i hit a nerve with the salty-shima thing? i was just messing with you, i promise

Shit. Why does Kuroo have to be so damn perceptive? Kei didn’t even realize he was being more curt than usual, but at the same time he never feels the need to pretend with Kuroo. Even if he’s not feeling well, he doesn’t bother hiding it with him.

**Me:** sorry, no you’re fine it was funny. it’s just been a rough day is all. but im fine

**Kuroo-san:** i’m sorry tsukki...can i do anything?

**Me:** you’ve done plenty already. try to work on your essay okay? i think im gonna go bother my brother for a bit.

**Kuroo-san:** it’s nice to hear you’re spending time with him. tell him the dog-loving cat captain says hey ;)

**Me:** yknow i had forgotten for a brief moment but now i’m having a crisis all over again. this conversation is not over, you traitor

**Kuroo-san:** xD xD talk to you later tsukki~

Kei takes a deep breath. He has half a mind to not even bother with what he’s about to do, but sometimes the mind and body do the unexplainable. They move on their own, acting on an instinct they’re drawn to whether you understand it or not. Kei, especially, does not understand, and he tries for a moment to fight against it but he stands up despite himself. Sometimes you do things because somewhere inside you know they have to be done.

Kei’s phone is long gone on his bedside table and he’s standing in front of his desk, eyeing the volleyball resting on top of it. He once again attempts a mental protest when his arms reach out to grab it, but it’s no use. 

His legs take him out of his room and down the hall, stopping in front of a door he hasn’t stopped in front of in months. He frees one hand and knocks, so lightly it may have barely reverberated, but he can hear movement on the other side, so he waits.

The door opens, and Kei winces inside because his eyes naturally stayed leveled before he realized they needed to adjust downward to where his brother is sitting in his wheelchair, looking puzzled back up at him.

Kei says nothing, because he doesn’t have to. He just holds out the ball in front of himself and waits a half a beat before the realization hits Akiteru and he nods with a faint smile on his face.

Once again Kei’s legs move on their own, although his brain has registered and accepted where they’re going, despite not knowing what the fuck he’s gonna do or say once they get there. He just knows he has to do this. And whatever will be will be.

The evening air is crisp, the faint smell of rain from earlier in the day still lingering on the concrete of the back porch. He probably should have thrown on something more than just a t-shirt, but summer’s around the corner so it’s not too cold.

His feet find themselves down onto the grass, and he listens as Akiteru rolls himself down the ramp Kei helped his mother build after the accident. As if by instinct, his brother continues until he’s positioned right under the basketball hoop like he always used to.

Yes, sometimes the body does the unexplainable, because without a word Kei twirls the volleyball in his hand for the first time in over 2 months and sets and overhand toss to his brother, who returns it easily with his own overhand toss.

They continue like this in silence, Kei needing to switch to underhand passes or occasionally reaching out to save a pass a bit awkwardly set to him, but Akiteru is maintaining the rally remarkably well for someone in a wheelchair. 

At some point, Akiteru catches the ball and looks up at Kei. “When was the last time we did this?” he asks with genuine curiosity.

Kei has to stop and think about that. Even before the accident they didn’t do this much anymore, despite their relationship repairing itself steadily during his first year of high school.

“Dunno.” is all he says.

Akiteru hums, “Feels nice to hold a volleyball again. Haven’t picked up mine in a while.”

“Yeah.” Kei nods, “Me neither.”

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, looking up toward the star studded sky that reminds him a bit of Yamaguchi’s freckles. There’s so many out there it makes Kei feel so small, so insignificant. 

Maybe he is.

He wonders if any of the stars ever feel that way.

“Nii-chan?” Kei says quietly, eyes refusing to tear themselves away from the sky.

“Yeah?” he hears his brother reply.

“Don’t you ever feel hopeless?”

The words came out without a second thought. So this is what he needed to know.

He can hear the volleyball being turned around in his brother’s hands, and when no reply comes he finally turns his head down to look at him. Akiteru’s head is hung low enough Kei can’t see his face.

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

Kei feels his own eyes go wide and guilt pools in his gut. Despite the fact that he’s the one who asked the question he has no idea what to do with that answer. It doesn’t matter though, because Akiteru keeps talking.

“When I woke up for the first time in the hospital, it felt like I was in a dream. I had no idea what happened, where I was. Mom was there and her voice was what snapped me into reality, I think. The look on her face was one I never want to see again. I remember asking her what happened but she couldn’t answer me. I tried sitting up but I couldn’t. I was too weak to even lift my head off of my pillow. And then, I realized. I realized I couldn’t feel my legs, and I can’t even put into words what that moment felt like.”

Kei hates remembering that day. He hates remembering everything about the accident, about what happened. But he’s never heard Akiteru talk about it, so something inside him craves to hear it. He walks a few steps forward and lowers himself down onto the grass, crossing his legs and tucking his hands in his lap, waiting for his brother to continue.

Akiteru raises his eyebrows a bit at the attention, but continues. “If mom hadn't been there, I think I would have started full-on panicking, but something kept me calm, for her sake. It wasn’t until I heard from the doctor’s mouth the extent of my injuries that it started to sink in. But there was mom, interrupting to remind the doctor to emphasize the possibility that I could walk again. She was already trying to make sure I knew there was hope, and for a moment, I tried to hold on to that.”

He stops, sucking in a breath and squinting his eyes so tight it looks like it hurts, jerking his head away from Kei’s view. 

“But when you need the help of two nurses and your panic-stricken mother to even sit up straight and be lowered down onto a chair that will allow you to move because you can’t do it yourself...all there is to feel is hopelessness.”

He lets out a shaky breath, and blinks up at the sky. “I put on a brave face for mom. For you. For myself as well but I think you know just as well as I do that it doesn’t last when you’re alone.”

Kei knows. He knows that all too well. But what he didn’t know was his brother was feeling the exact same way. It stings. It stings in a way that he’s never felt before. Knowing someone you care about is hurting while also knowing you don’t have an ounce of power to stop their pain...it’s not something Kei has ever stopped to think about until now. 

Akiteru’s eyes are dancing around the night sky, squinting slightly, almost as if he’s searching for something. “In the beginning, I kept having these recurring dreams. I was falling. I was falling and falling deep into the depths of what seemed like the ocean. There was no one there but me, and it was extremely cold and dark. I would try to scream, ‘Here I am!’ but no one would come for me. The worst part of it was I was glowing. I was shining brightly, like a star, but no matter how bright I glowed, my light wouldn’t reach far enough for anyone to find me. I realize now this was a twisted manifestation of how utterly hopeless I felt, but it still gives me chills just thinking about it.”

Kei squints his own eyes, still observing the night sky. Some of the stars are big and bright, while others are small and dim, but he can still see them. What about those he can’t see, though? Just like his brother’s dreams, there must be stars out there whose light can’t reach us. What a sad, lonely thing that would be, to be a star completely lost in the void of darkness.

“However!” Akiteru’s sudden voice and slap of his hands on his knees startles Kei out of his trance, “I knew if I let myself get swallowed up in the hopelessness, I might not be able to find my way out, just like in those dreams. I sure as hell wasn’t going to let that happen, so I did my best to start finding the small victories in each day and focus on those. After all, there  _ is _ a chance I will walk again, so I’d be a fool to not hold onto that hope.”

Everything he just said goes completely against the way Kei has lived the past 3 months of his life. Up until now, hope has been futile. He’s seen it as nothing but a foolish risk that will lead to ultimate disappointment, so why even bother in the first place. He can’t pinpoint exactly when his way of thinking started to waver, but it feels like every day something inside him is screaming to let go of the cynicism and just believe. Believe like his brother has been. Believe like Kuroo does. Believe like Yamaguchi always has.

“I think,” Kei starts, feeling Akiteru’s eyes on him immediately, “I let myself get swallowed up in my own hopelessness.” He takes in the starry sky for just one more moment, thinking about all the ones that are going unnoticed. “But, I feel like I’m being pulled out somehow. I just don’t want to fall back in.”

Akiteru huffs the smallest of laughs, to Kei’s surprise. “It sounds to me like someone saw your light, even when you thought it wouldn’t reach.”

Kei immediately looks down at his folded hands, scowling because his brother is so damn perceptive. Despite the chill in the air his cheeks are far too warm.

“You don’t need to hide things from me, ya know. I love you no matter what, so does mom.”

An unknown weight lifts itself off Kei’s shoulders and he feels himself relax just a little. The grass underneath him is starting to dirty his shorts, he’s sure, but he wants to stay in this moment.

“He says hi.”

“Hm?” Akiteru replies.

“Kuroo. Well, he said ‘tell him the dog-loving cat captain says hey.’”

Akiteru throws his head back in a laugh, and Kei realizes he doesn’t remember the last time he’s heard his brother laugh. 

“Wait, he’s a dog person? That’s just not right.”

“That’s what I said!” Kei replies, with a tad more life in his voice, exchanging an equally amused glance with his brother. It lingers for just a moment, but Kei can’t hold it when he feels the words that have been sitting at the back of his throat this entire conversation start to come up. “So, um.”

Good start. He fiddles with his fingers, as if that’s actually going to help get the words out.

“You know how we always go to Tokyo over summer break for training camp?” 

“Yep, been a tradition since I was at Karasuno, of course I know,” Akiteru says, tone already all-too-knowing for Kei's comfort. 

A deep breath.

“I really, really want to go. But…” He feels the emptiness of his stomach. He thinks back to the eating log. To the increased Xanax. To the sharks in the water and cracks in the bridge and the way he doesn’t feel like it’ll hold his weight.

“I’m scared that no matter how hard I try, I won’t be able to. Just the thought of trying and failing is enough to make me want to quit right now.”

“Kei, do you know what one of my proudest moments as your brother was?”

His gut is already in knots. Everything in his nature is screaming to run from this conversation but despite that he looks up at his brother and waits.

“Your first year, at the Spring Interhigh Qualifiers. When you single-handedly blocked that monster of a wing-spiker. I remember watching your scream of satisfaction and I had to resist so hard to keep from screaming myself.”

Of course Kei remembers that. Even if it wasn’t a pinnacle turning point in his love for volleyball, Bokuto would never let him forget it. The “I TOLD YOU SO”’s lasted for months afterward.

“The block was amazing, but that wasn’t the real reason I was so proud. I was proud of you because for months I watched you come home from practice acting completely uninterested. I knew it was because you were afraid to get invested, and that was because of the way I hurt you. I could tell you were scared of trying, because your one real example ended up being lame as hell.” he scratches the back of his neck, still embarrassed after all these years, despite Kei assuring him he’s over it. “But. Whether you realized it or not, you started trying. And man, what an outcome you had.”

“It wasn’t that great, I only blocked him once, anyway,” Kei says instinctively.

“Hey. Don’t ruin my pep talk.”

“Sorry, habit.”

“Anyway,” Akiteru elongates the word in that annoyed-big-brother way of his, “What I’m trying to say is, it’s completely normal to be scared of trying when the feat seems so unachievable. But what better feeling is there than succeeding in what you thought was impossible?”

Kei stares back down at his hands and lets the words sink in. On his own, it’s definitely impossible. But if it’s not on his own…

He jumps, startled at the sudden feeling of a hand on his shoulder. Akiteru is leaning down over him, caramel eyes shining even against the darkness of the evening sky. “Kei, we’re gonna get you to Tokyo.”

Slowly, with a very unsteady hand, he grabs onto his brother’s wrist. The contact grounds him. The certainty in those words start to flow through his own veins.

“Yeah,” he tightens his grip, “Yeah we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends, I hope you’re all doing well. To be honest, this chapter was particularly triggering for me to write and ended up taking an entire three weeks to finish, and is now the last chapter I have finished. Due to that, I sadly have no choice but to change the posting schedule from every week to every two weeks. I am so sorry to all of you wonderfully supportive people who look forward to updates every week. I truly hope you will continue to check back for updates from now on. ;__; 
> 
> Additional notes: Akiteru’s dream metaphor is a reference to the lyrics of the song Shinkai no Sirius by UMake. A beautiful song that makes my heart ache from the inside out.
> 
> Also, if you don’t know what the steel vs feathers guy is please for the love of god search it on youtube.
> 
> Double also, an actual conversation with my beta over the pokemon discussion: “tsukki strikes me as someone who would not enjoy omega/alpha so he would be all "well actually the originals were better" while kuroo is just like "weeee 3d models weeeee"


	12. this is me trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before him sits Dr. Mishiya, who is carefully reviewing this past week’s eating log while checking and comparing who knows what she has logged on his file on the computer. But Kei isn’t focused on that. Instead, his eyes refuse to tear away from a particular document he passed to her earlier, sitting on the edge of the desk waiting to be addressed.
> 
> Field Trip Approval Form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> descriptions of the onset of a panic attack
> 
> THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR WAITING <33 This chapter is a tad shorter than normal and for that I deeply apologize, I have a major Japanese test coming up in 6 weeks so I'm extremely busy with studying on top of work T_T  
> I hope you enjoy regardless ^^

**_July 15th, Afternoon_ **

The passing of a single second can drag on for what seems like hours under the right circumstances. Now, in the all-too-familiar clinic room chair with his hands gripping each other between his legs, Kei swears time is frozen altogether.

Before him sits Dr. Mishiya, who is carefully reviewing this past week’s eating log while checking and comparing who knows what she has logged on his file on the computer. But Kei isn’t focused on that. Instead, his eyes refuse to tear away from a particular document he passed to her earlier, sitting on the edge of the desk waiting to be addressed.

Field Trip Approval Form.

For the past 5 weeks, Kei has pushed himself to the brink in a desperate attempt to regulate his eating habits. With the help of his brother, he started on a plan that included unthreatening foods such as protein drinks and bars, vitamin supplements, and easy to digest carbohydrates. They worked together to figure out in which settings he felt most comfortable eating, most of the time being alone in his room. Eventually, he slowly worked up to joining his family at the table each night so long as there was no pressure to eat more than he already had anticipated. He earned proud smiles from his brother and sighs of relief from his mother when he started to reach for a second helping of rice, no matter how small.

After 3 weeks of this pattern, he asked Yamaguchi to join him for lunch at a local cafe. It was his first attempt at eating in a public place in nearly over 5 months. All he ordered was a salad, and to be honest, every bite was a struggle. He had to fight down the threat of nausea and panic after every other bite, but he focused on Yamaguchi and the stories he was telling about the team and before he even realized it he had finished the entire salad. All of it. Gone. Who knows how long he stared at the empty plate, and he swears he saw Yamaguchi wipe a tear away when he thought Kei couldn’t see.

The eating progress was tangible. He could write it down on paper and read it over and over until he believed it himself. He really was improving.

The panic attacks however…

He tried to start logging when the attacks occurred and tried setting goals for how long he could go without having one, but that would just end up in him being frustrated and discouraged because he could never meet them.

They just _happen._ He can’t explain it. He doesn’t know why. Sometimes they just don’t have a trigger and that’s the most vexing part of it all.

If there’s anything to say in terms of progress, he’s learned to accept them when they happen. “You have to ride them out, Kei, you can’t fight against them,” is what his doctor always told him. In a way, it helps, because forcing himself to focus on the symptoms keeps himself grounded in reality rather than getting completely suffocated in the terror of it all.

_“Oh, I can’t feel my hands. Well that fucking sucks,”_ he would think to himself while clenching his fists and releasing them over and over again until he slowly regained feeling.

Regardless, Dr. Mishiya viewed this as progress, though Kei can’t help but curse to himself that his rate of attacks _should_ be declining given the increased dosage of Xanax. Those good-for-nothing pills. He’s been tempted to flush them on more than one occasion. But Kei’s not an idiot, and he fears the dagger of withdrawal symptoms enough to kick his pride down a few notches. 

But speaking of the rate of his attacks…

Kei feels guilt pool in his gut. He maaay have started lying to his doctor. Just a little. About how often he’s been having attacks. He thought if she knew his attacks were still occurring regularly there was no way she would allow him to go to Tokyo, no matter how much better he’s been “handling” them. So he’s told a white lie a time or two. Or three. Or four, since that’s how many times he’s seen her since the day they agreed to this possibility.

But he can handle it at this degree, he thinks. He’ll have Yamaguchi with him if anything does happen, and he’s not even actually going to play anyway, so the risk of a physically-induced attack is next to none.

Finally, a carefully-manicured hand reaches for the form and Kei’s entire body shoots up into proper posture. Dr. Mishiya gives it a once over, then sets it back down and Kei can feel his heart sink into his stomach.

She turns to face him and folds her hands in her lap. “Kei, I will admit the progress you have made these past several weeks is wonderful. Remarkable, even.”

“Thank you,” he replies, shoulders straight and gaze focused.

“However, it almost seems a bit fast. In my many years of work I can’t say I’ve seen many cases of your degree that have made such leaps so quickly.”

Kei gulps and prays it doesn’t give him away. “Like I’ve been saying, I really want to go on this trip, so I’ve worked very hard to meet your requirements in order to do so.”

“It’s true, you certainly have, but I worry you’ve been overworking yourself. Pushing yourself, even toward progress, can backfire, you know.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but I feel like I can handle this. I’ve thought over every scenario and every possible threat a hundred times but I have my best friend with me who probably knows me better than I know myself so I’m not worried about the potential of an attack.”

Dr. Mishiya sighs but grins back at him. “You know, I never would have expected this kind of tenacity from you. I don’t know what’s so special about this field trip, but it’s clearly a big deal to you.”

Oh god, he can literally feel his neck turning red. “Thank you, I think? But yeah, it is.”

She takes one more look at her computer, then back at Kei, then back at her computer and starts typing. 

He doesn’t know what she’s writing, but every tap of the key is worse than a hundred nails on a chalkboard. If she’s gonna say no, he just wants her to say it for god’s sake. Any longer and he’s going to go insane.

The typing stops and instead, Dr. Mishiya grabs for a pen and the form, and starts writing.

Kei hears himself gasp. 

Dr. Mishiya stamps her signature, finalizing the paperwork, and hands it over to Kei.

For a moment he just stares at it, eyes frantically scanning it to confirm that yes, she really did approve the form.

With trembling hands he takes it in his hands, and before he can even get a ‘Thank you’ out she says, “Have fun, Kei. You’ve done so well.”

For half a second, he thinks he’s going to start crying. He doesn’t, of course, but he smiles at her and bows deeply, trying to express as much gratitude as possible.

Tucking the form safely away in a folder in his bag, he hurries to pay at the front desk and practically bolts out the door, whipping out his phone.

**15:32**

**Me: Approved. I’m going.**

**Tadashi: *\\(^o^)/* TSUKKIIIIIIIII**

*****

**_July 18th, Evening_ **

Tetsurou sighs as he tosses his familiar red track suit into the duffel bag on his bed. Tucked away inside are his gym shoes, worn out from years of use, but they still get the job done. That’s all that’s inside though. His university is only a few stops away from the gym and his dorm room bed is a thousand times more comfortable than the floors of the classrooms they use for training camps.

Another year, another summer training camp. Incredible how quickly time passes. 

He’s excited, he really is. Not only will this look great on his future resume, but he’s always loved training up beginner players. On top of that, he doesn’t often get the chance to play volleyball with his current schedule, so he’s looking forward to getting back in the groove. Maybe block a spike or two of Bokuto’s, for old time’s sake.

Again, he’s excited. No, really, he is. But...he can’t shake the disappointment he has tried so hard to bury for the past several weeks.

_“My doctor was really not happy at the idea of me going out to Tokyo next month. I had a feeling she’d react like that but it still sucks. I’m sorry, Kuroo-san. It’s still too early I guess.”_

When Kei told him this over Skype, Tetsurou kept his smile perfectly in place and expressed his sincerest understanding. He _does_ understand, and he would never want Tsukki to push himself past what he can handle, especially if his doctor thinks it’s a bad idea too. But…

He tosses the duffel bag over by the door and throws himself back on his bed, letting out another sigh. Dammit, he needs to pull himself together. He can’t go around the training camps pouting just because he doesn’t get to see his crush.

It’s fine though, because he has a plan. He’s been working on this plan for a little while now, actually. About a month ago he started a part time job at his university’s cafe to save up a bit of cash. Bullet trains are expensive, after all.

He smirks up at the ceiling despite himself. Yeah, it’s fine. Maybe not tomorrow, but he’s gonna see him. Just a little bit longer. 

///

“You ready?” Yamaguchi asks, beaming at him already.

Kei rolls his eyes despite the pounding in his chest. “Let’s just go already,” he says, adjusting the weight of his duffel bag on his shoulder.

Without another word he follows Yamaguchi into the gym, where everyone else has gathered in preparation to board the overnight bus to Tokyo.

The difference is startling. Compared to the last time he stepped foot in here, that is. Back then, it was the last place he wanted to be. Tonight, he greedily takes in the comforting smell of the wooden floor and the blinding lights on the ceiling. His focus may have been on seeing Kuroo again, but in this moment he remembers just how much he’s missed _volleyball._

“TSUKISHIMAAAAAA!” An extremely loud, all too familiar voice pierces his moment, and suddenly something is _clinging to him._

No, really. Hinata ran full-throttle and pounced on him, clinging like an annoying orange koala.

“Get _off_ me, idiot!” Kei huffs out, wriggling his arms free to shove the menace off of him, but Hinata is way stronger than he used to be.

“Welcome back!!!” he exclaims before giving in to Kei’s resistance and letting go. He doesn’t stop grinning up at him though, and no matter how hard Kei tries to channel irritation into his face, something inside him breaks.

The smallest of laughs escapes his lips, and although he tries to hide it he smiles back and tousles Hinata’s hair a bit. “Thanks, Hinata.”

_To think a day has come he would be soft for Hinata. Hell really, truly must have frozen over._

Behind Hinata comes Kageyama, who simply stares at him, though his expression is...complex. Much like the way he looked at him all those weeks ago in his room, his face is full of every emotion he can’t adequately put into words. He simply nods, then lifts his hand, shaped like a fist, and gently nudges Kei’s chest.

Kei doesn’t flinch at the contact. Instead, he returns the gesture in kind, and the two exchange identical smirks.

“I see you didn’t scare off the first years,” Kei quips, glancing ever so briefly at the group of faces he doesn’t know pretending like they aren’t watching whatever _this_ is go down.

“We’ll see what happens now that you’re here,” Kageyama replies.

“Now now, let’s not make assumptions before proper introductions are made,” a friendly voice interrupts. Kageyama steps out of the way, making room for Takeda Sensei, who stands as politely as ever with that warm, reassuring smile of his. “Welcome back, Tsukishima-kun.”

“A little early to say that, but thank you, Sensei.”

Takeda Sensei simply nods, but his smile doesn’t waver at all. Coach Ukai approaches from the side and slams a hand so firmly down onto Kei’s shoulder it genuinely startles him. He squeezes it once, then brings his opposite hand up to squeeze the other as well. Kei is reminded of their first year, back when they won against Shiratorizawa. Coach Ukai had grabbed onto him with both hands and shook him half to death, declaring him the MVP of the match. Now, he’s not as frantic and he’s not shaking him (thankfully), but something in his eyes expresses the same amount of pride he held for him on that day.

“Step by step, Tsukishima. This is one hell of one.” After one more squeeze, he finally lets go of Kei’s shoulders, leaving him a bit stunned.

“Thanks.” is all he manages to get out before the Coach claps his hands together and calls everyone around for one final meeting before they board the bus. Kei quietly bows during the brief introduction of him to the first years. He made his eye-contact as short as possible, but the looks he did manage to take in didn’t set well with him.

He doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because soon they’re being rushed onto the bus. Despite Takeda Sensei reminding them a thousand times it’s the middle of the night so they need to be quiet, there’s hollering and excitement as the first and second years board. There’s arguments over window seats and leg space, but it’s still not _quite_ as loud, Kei thinks. Not without Tanaka and Nishinoya around. 

Kageyama and Hinata board ahead of Kei and Yamaguchi, taking the first empty pair of seats they see. Kei, however, heads straight for the back of the bus, Yamaguchi following behind without complaint. There’s a few empty rows separating them from the nearest pair of second years, giving him the much needed sense of space. But on the other hand...the walls of the bus feel much more narrow than he remembers…

Maybe it’s because he chose the seat by the window…? But he always chooses the seat by the window. No, this must just be a smaller bus. It has to be, he doesn’t remember it ever feeling this cramped.

“Tsukki?”

“Huh?” he blinks a few times and looks at Yamaguchi, who apparently froze mid-way putting his seatbelt on. It’s then he realizes the pounding of his own heart and rapid rise and fall of his chest. “Oh, I’m- I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Alright... Let me know if you want to switch seats or anything.” Yamaguchi locks his seatbelt in place. 

Coach Ukai stands up to double check everyone is seated and properly buckled in and then they’re off. Kei feels the bus rumble to life and pull out of the school parking lot. That’s it, no going back now.

He tries focusing his attention on the passing of buildings. Familiar ones disappear one by one until he can’t recognize anything anymore, and it really, really starts to sink in. He’s going to Tokyo. How long has he been waiting for this, hoping for this? It’s actually happening. When morning comes he’ll look out onto a view still a bit foreign to him, and a first year is bound to shout at the sight of the real Tokyo Sky Tree. When morning comes he’ll step foot once again onto the grounds of that fancy city high school that Hinata still manages to get lost in. When morning comes he’ll see Kuroo.

He’ll see Kuroo.

His mind spins at the thought. He wishes he could blame his accelerated heart rate on that too, but the frustrating fact is he just still hasn’t managed to calm down since getting on the bus. In an instant he’s reaching down for his headphones and eye mask. He can feel Yamaguchi’s gaze on him, butignores it. He’s fine. He’s _fine._

He’s never had an issue on busses before, never been carsick, so why does he feel like the vehicle is caving in on him? If he can just block out his senses, he’ll be fine. The faster he falls asleep, the sooner he’ll be in Tokyo.

That’s right… He’ll be in Tokyo.

_Fuck._

He drags the eye mask over his head and lets out a long exhale. He ignores the shake in his hands as he unwraps the cord of his headphones, connects them to his phone, and puts them on. All behind the darkness of the mask, because these movements have long since become instinct.

_There we go, now just breathe, for fuck’s sake._

He’s breathing, alright. All too quickly. 

He needs to get his heart rate down first and foremost, so he tries the breathing technique he learned recently. In for four seconds, hold for seven, then breathe out for eight. He goes through this two, maybe three times, then jolts at an unexpected feeling.

A hand on his.

Kei has half the instinct to reject it, but then again he went into this fully expecting he’d need to rely on Yamaguchi. He just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.

Letting out a shaky eight second breath, he flips his hand over to properly squeeze his best friend’s. Gripping and releasing with the timing of his breaths, he focuses on the sensation to prevent losing it altogether.

A song or two passes and his heart rate finally eases along with his breathing. Yamaguchi must have noticed as well because he lets go of his hand and pats his leg before returning to his own personal space. Kei can’t hear a thing, but he can feel the “You’re fine now, you got this,” energy radiating off of him.

That was a close one, for sure. Kei relaxes down into his seat and leans against the window, crossing his arms and letting himself fall into his music and then hopefully, sleep.

**_I just wanted you to know_ **

**_That this is me trying_ **

**_Maybe I don’t know quite what to say_ **

**_I just wanted you to know_ **

**_That this is me trying_ **

He wonders for just a second, what the Kei from 3 months ago would think if he saw this. Himself, in the back corner of the Karasuno Volleyball Team’s rental bus, sitting next to his best friend with the hope of tomorrow ahead of him. Only for a second though, because soon after his consciousness fades away.

**_At least I’m trying._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: this is me trying - Taylor Swift
> 
> Next Update: 11/10  
> He'll be in Tokyo my friends. GET EXCITED.
> 
> **SPOILERS INCOMING FOR ANYONE NOT CAUGHT UP WITH THE HAIKYUU ANIME**  
> //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////  
> DID YOU GUYS SEE? DID YOU SEE? DID YOU SEE KUROO DO THE THING? HE DID THE THING. HE DID THE POSE. HE DID THE POSE I ALWAYS DESCRIBE HIM DOING IN HIS CALLS WITH TSUKKI AND IT WAS PERFECT AND EVERYTHING AND I LITERALLY CRIED.


	13. state of grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kei takes a look out the window for himself, taking in the view of Sky Tree that truly is impressive despite his lack of reaction. Yamaguchi’s right. They really did make it.
> 
> They’re in Tokyo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> none :)

**_July 19th, morning_ **

“Is that really it?!”

“It has to be!!”

“It’s so HUGE!”

“The actual Tokyo Sky Tree!!!”

The shouting of the overly excited first years pulls Kei’s consciousness out of the void and into reality. His playlist finished probably an hour or so after he fell asleep, and sadly his headphones aren’t quite as noise cancelling as he wishes they were. 

He pulls his eye mask off and checks his phone. 7:08 am. Jesus Christ. He will never understand how some human beings are capable of having this much energy this early in the morning, let alone ever.

Yamaguchi is already awake next to him and gives him a soft smile and a nod before saying, “We made it.”

Kei takes a look out the window for himself, taking in the view of Sky Tree which truly is impressive despite his lack of reaction. Yamaguchi’s right. They really did make it.

They’re in Tokyo.

“E-everyone! Please quiet down and remain in your seats!” Yachi scrambles from the front of the bus, trying to reign in the first years.

Coach Ukai stands up from his seat next to Takeda-sensei and announces, “Well, now that you’ve woken nearly everyone up, yes, good morning. We’ve made it to Tokyo and will arrive at Fukurodani Academy in about 15 minutes, so hang tight.”

Kei spends the rest of the bus ride with his eyes glued to the view outside. Half of his brain can’t register the fact that he’s actually here right now. The other half of his brain is freaking the fuck out over what he’s going to even say to Kuroo when he sees him. There is, however, a sliver within said half of his brain that is really, _really_ excited to see what kind of face he’s going to make.

He feels his phone buzz in his palm and scrambles to check it.

**7:22**

**Kuroo-san: good morning, moonshine. i’m off to bo’s alma mater for the first day of training camp. i’ll text you later, okay?**

Kei’s stomach does a thousand flips at the pet-name Kuroo has insisted on calling him for several weeks now because “ _sun_ shine just doesn’t work, and come on, your name literally has the kanji for moon.”

This is where the slight twinge of guilt settles in. Ever since Kei told Kuroo there was no chance he could attend the camps he dodged the topic altogether, worried Kuroo might get a read on him. But more than that, he feels guilty for lying. It’s not a lie, it’s a surprise, and with a good surprise comes a few lies! At least, that’s what Akiteru told him one day when Kei was going back and forth over whether he should just tell him or not. 

If he’s honest, Kei doesn’t do surprises. Not for him, at least. Around his 10th birthday he caught wind of his brother trying to throw him a surprise party and put a stop to it immediately. _“I won’t even show up. I’ll stay in my room the whole day, so don’t you dare.”_ At least Yamaguchi knows better than to try to pull that kind of shit with him. Kei just doesn’t know how to react in those kinds of situations. It’s uncomfortable as hell having someone expecting and waiting on a reaction from you. But something tells him Kuroo’s not that type of person, and Kei thinks he’s not gonna hate being on the opposite side of a surprise.

**7:23**

**Me: good morning, kuroo-san. enjoy the training camp. tell bokuto-san i say hi.**

All he gets is a thumbs up emoji in return and for a second Kei’s heart sinks. Kuroo’s not...mad at him right? He’s been so understanding this whole time so there shouldn’t be a reason for him to be... 

A chorus of “ooh’s” and “ah’s” tears his eyes away from his phone and back out the window. Fukurodani Academy is as massive as ever. Seriously, what school needs 3 separate gyms? At any rate, he feels the bus come to a stop and for a moment, so does his heart.

“Alright everyone, grab your bags, make sure you didn’t leave anything behind, and let’s head out!” Coach Ukai calls. 

Anxious energy fills the air in all kinds of forms. Hinata is literally bouncing in his seat, Kageyama scowling at him and telling him to calm down. The first years look completely intimidated by the massive size of the school and the second years are trying to put on a brave face since they already had this experience last year. Kei, on the other hand... okay yeah, he’s basically a wreck inside.

They line up to get off the bus, Hinata leading the way, and by the time Kei takes his first step out he hears Hinata scream.

“BOKUTO-SAAAAANN!”

_Oh shit._

Kei freezes in place, causing Yamaguchi to accidentally bump into him then profusely apologize when Kei has to jump completely down off the steps as a result.

“Hey hey heyyyy Hinata!! Have you grown?” Bokuto shouts just as excitedly back at him.

“One whole centimeter!” Hinata proudly announces, puffing out his chest to mimic Bokuto’s stance. Bokuto in turn lets out a booming laugh that startles the first years. Kei would laugh if he weren’t too busy cursing himself for not factoring in this possibility.

From around the corner comes Akaashi, who Kei certainly wasn’t expecting to see here, but now that he thinks about it of course he would be. Kei feels himself physically relax, until—

“Wait a sec, TSUKKI? TSUKKI IS THAT YOU?”

“God dammit,” Kei says to the universe. If Kuroo shows up anytime soon…

Bokuto comes bounding forward, waving his arms in the air as if he didn’t already completely stand out. “Holy shit! Tsukki!! You’re here!!” he laughs, wrapping his arms completely around him and _god fucking dammit he is lifting me off the ground._

“Bokuto-san. Watch your language around the first years,” a calm, but amused voice says beside them. Kei shoots desperate eyes at Akaashi, begging for help, but he doesn't do a damn thing aside from bringing a hand up to hide his obvious smile.

The rest of the team moves along behind Hinata, including Yamaguchi who sends an apologetic wave behind him.

“Bokuto-san if you don’t put me down _right now,_ ” Kei begins to threaten, but Bokuto’s already putting him down. 

Kei tries, he really really tries to scowl at him, but Bokuto is looking at him with such fondness and relief he can’t find it in himself to so much as frown.

“Tsukishima-kun, what a pleasant surprise. It’s nice to see you,” Akaashi says, wearing the same kind of expression, just less animated.

Kei sighs, giving into the comfortable familiarity. “It’s nice to see you both as well, um, speaking of pleasant surprises—“

“Why didn’t Kuroo tell us you were coming?! I thought you couldn’t make it!!” Bokuto exclaims, far too loud, and once again Kei just prays Kuroo hasn’t made it to the vicinity yet.

“Kou,” Akaashi says quietly, bringing up a hand and pressing it to Bokuto’s chest, calming him down as if he were an over-excited puppy. Which he basically is, Kei thinks to himself. “I think there’s an explanation for that.” Akaashi shoots Kei an apologetic look, and he returns it with all the gratitude his expression can muster.

“Right. Uh, Kuroo-san doesn’t know that I’m here. It’s...kind of a surprise,” Kei explains, fingers fiddling with each other as the nervous energy settles back in at the thought.

“Kind of?” Akaashi muses, smirking.

Bokuto’s owlish eyes blink once, twice, and then he’s throwing his head back in joyous laughter. “Tsukki, you’re a little shit, you know that?”

Kei manages the scowl this time.

“He means that fondly,” Akaashi mediates.

“Oh man. I gotta see this. What’s your plan? His face is gonna be a _sight_. Keiji, do we have a camera? No, I’ll just use my phone, holy _shit_ I can’t wait,” Bokuto rambles on to god knows who at this point.

Akaashi softly smiles at his boyfriend then turns his attention back to Kei. “I’m curious as well, what is your plan? Can we help at all?”

About that…

“I don’t really have a plan...I didn’t really think past getting here,” Kei admits.

“No no, that won’t do. We need _dramatics._ This is an iconic reunion, Tsukki. Gotta play it up,” Bokuto says in full ‘ready to watch my best friend fall apart’ mode.

“Please don’t make this anything more than it is, Bokuto-san,” Kei sighs.

“I don’t think a plan would hurt, Tsukishima-kun,” Akaashi adds, Bokuto lighting up in response.

Kei pulls his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. “He should be here any minute anyway, I don’t think we have time…”

“That’s quitter talk. Leave it to me!!” Bokuto shoves his thumb into his chest, then whips out his phone and starts running back toward the school.

He’s out of sight in seconds, and all Akaashi and Kei can do is sigh. 

Akaashi may be calm, but there is a twinkle of mischief reflected in his eyes as he turns to Kei and says, “Let’s take a walk, shall we? I’ll take your bag.”

“Uh, okay. Thank you.” Kei hands his bag to Akaashi and follows him in a completely different direction than Bokuto went.

///

“Huh? Why’s Bo calling me?” Tetsurou says aloud, looking down at his phone confused. “Hello?”

“HEY! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Tetsurou yanks his phone away from his ear and winces. _God, why is he_ _yelling?_

“Jesus, Bo, you can’t just answer a phone call like that.” _And why does it sound like he’s running?_

“Sorry sorry! Are you almost here?”

“Yeah, I’m like two blocks away, why?”

“Meet me at the east entrance!!!”

“What? Why? The gyms are on the west side—“

“I’ll explain when you get here!!”

Before Tetsurou can argue, Bokuto has already hung up. He sighs and shoves his phone back in his jersey pocket. What’s up with him…? Well, the east entrance is closer anyway, might as well entertain whatever Bokuto is up to.

But whatever it is...it better be good.

///

“It’s been quite a while, how are you doing?”

Kei usually hates this question, but something about Akaashi’s voice and demeanor assures him that he’s not expecting him to give a forced bullshit answer.

“Things have been pretty hard, to be honest. But I’m doing a bit better now,” he replies, staring down at his feet as he follows wherever Akaashi is taking him.

“Mm, I can imagine. But it really is nice to see you like this.”

Kei looks up at him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Things have been difficult for you, as you said. I can only imagine the details and don’t plan on asking, but despite all of that”- he turns his head to meet his gaze and smiles- “you seem happy.”

Kei’s feet stop in their tracks. Akaashi only takes a few more steps before he stops as well, turning around and cocking his head a bit. “What, am I wrong?”

Happy? Honestly, that’s a word completely foreign to Kei. Somewhere along the way he lost the meaning, forgot the feeling. He just accepted that it’s just not something he’s meant to or even capable of feeling for more than a brief moment or two.

But thinking about it now…

“I don’t think you’re wrong, but not necessarily right either.”

Akaashi, ever observant, simply waits for him to gather his thoughts. Eyes gravitating back toward the ground, Kei gets lost in his head for who knows how long, genuinely trying to gather whatever the fuck he thinks he’s feeling.

When he thinks he’s found the right words, he lifts his gaze to find Akaashi still patiently watching him. Kei takes a breath and says, “I don’t know if I’m happy. But I don’t think I’m unhappy either. I think maybe I’m...re-learning what happiness means to me. If that makes sense.”

Akaashi nods and with the most reassuring of smiles replies, “Don’t worry, that makes complete sense.”

Kei’s vulnerability meter has already reached dangerous levels of high, so he instinctively starts to nervously look around the area Akaashi has led him to. It’s a wide courtyard, presumably in the middle of the school, but far enough away from the gyms to be completely silent. It’s beautiful, really. Trees line the walkways surrounded by cleanly kept green grass. It must be even more beautiful during cherry blossom season.

“Koutarou and I used to eat lunch here together almost every day,” Akaashi muses, fondly gazing at one nearby bench in particular. “I just had a hunch that this was where I should take you.”

Kei is once again at a loss for words. He’s the one who planned this surprise, why does he suddenly feel on the other end of it?

Akaashi pulls his phone out of his pocket and smirks. “It would appear I was correct. Please wait here for just a moment, I’ll take your bags to Karasuno’s room.” With that, he walks away, and even if Kei wanted to follow he couldn’t. His feet are glued to this spot in the courtyard, because he can hear Bokuto’s voice coming closer from around the corner behind him, and another very, very familiar voice complaining over him. 

Kei’s body manages to come to life enough to whip around to face the voices, but then there’s nothing but silence.

Silence, because there is Kuroo Tetsurou, standing in the entrance of the courtyard completely frozen in place. Kei can’t make out his face from this far. Is he confused? Is he angry? Is he happy? He doesn’t wonder for long, because Kuroo slides his bag off his shoulder and lets it drop to the ground.

And then he starts to walk.

Kei’s legs are absolutely useless. All he can do is watch as Kuroo comes closer and closer. No, he’s not angry, but he doesn’t look happy either...the only thing written on his face is utter disbelief. Like Kei might be a mirage, but he might as well be according to the story he told him. 

Kuroo stops a few steps away from him, eyes darting all across his face, to his hair, even up and down his whole body once, but eventually land on his eyes. The disbelief molds a bit more into shock.

“Hey,” Kei musters out, voice shaking, “Surprise.”

But then the shock turns into a smile, and that smile sets the steadily burning flame ablaze.

Who moves first, Kei doesn’t know. All he knows is one second he was finally face to face with the one he loves, and the next, he was in his arms.

Finally. 

Finally. 

_Finally._

Kei’s got a few inches on Kuroo now, but that doesn’t stop him from looping his arms around his torso and burying his face into his neck. It’s then he can feel Kuroo’s arms, actually feel them, squeeze him close like he could disappear at any second. One of his hands twines itself into Kei’s hair, holding his head ever so gently as if it could break. 

“Oh my god,” Kuroo huffs, half laughing, half sighing, “Oh my god.”

Kei only squeezes harder. His chest is on fire and he’s doing everything in his power to keep the tears threatening to overflow at bay. It’s damn fucking hard though, when the thing he has fought for for weeks and weeks has finally come to fruition.

He never wants to let go. But the moment he thinks that, Kuroo moves his hands to grab onto Kei’s shoulders and push him off. Not with the intent of separation, but to look him in the eyes again.

Kei’s eyes are glossy, so when he looks into Kuroo’s equally glossy ones, they both laugh. Kuroo pulls him back in and Kei doesn’t complain one bit.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Kuroo says softly, so close to Kei’s ear, it sends a shiver down his spine making him clutch onto him harder.

“I’m sorry for lying to you,” Kei mumbles into Kuroo’s shoulder.

“How long did you know?”

“Technically I didn’t know for certain until a few days ago. But I’ve been working really hard on a plan with my doctor to make this happen. I was afraid of disappointing you, so I didn’t want to tell you in case I...in case I failed.”

Kuroo relaxes his grip and brings a hand to thumb at Kei's jaw, turning his face so he can look him in the eyes as he says, “You could never disappoint me. The fact that you went through all this trouble is incredible. God, I’m so happy you’re here.”

The smile he’s wearing combined with how close his lips are sends a blush up Kei’s entire neck and face in record time, so he buries his head back into the crook of Kuroo’s neck. “Don’t say cheesy shit.”

He feels the rumble of Kuroo’s laugh against his chest and thinks that might be the best thing he’s ever felt in his entire life.

For Kei, right now, in Kuroo’s arms...

This is happiness.

“I’m so happy I’m here, too.”

**_You come around and the armor falls_ **

**_Pierce the room like a cannonball_ **

**_Now all we know_ **

**_Is don't let go_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: State of Grace - Taylor Swift
> 
> I love them so much. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.
> 
> Next Update: 11/24  
> Thank you for your patience ;_; <33


	14. always you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re like magnets. If it’s not Kei catching Kuroo staring at him, it’s the other way around. Each time their eyes meet it’s fire, it’s electricity, it’s longing. Oh god, he’s gone insane, hasn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> none :) enjoy it while it lasts :)

**_July 19th, mornin_ ** **_g_ **

“I’m so happy I’m here too,” Kei mumbles into Kuroo’s neck, and he immediately feels that rumble of laughter.

“Now who’s the one saying cheesy shit,” Kuroo whispers fondly in his ear, sending a million jolts of electricity through every nerve in Kei’s body.

Kei brings an arm slowly up Kuroo’s back, reaching the back of his neck. He slides his hand up just a bit more and then, finally—

Flicks his ear.

_ “OW!”  _ Kuroo exclaims, jerking away to rub at his ear, “Tsukki what the--”

“I never could do that through the screen. That was satisfying on so many levels.” Kei smirks.

Familiar booming laughter echoes from around the corner, startling the two of them enough to separate and take a few steps away from each other.

“Oh my GOD I am so glad I was recording.” Bokuto, still laughing, walks out from the corner, Akaashi behind him. 

Kei glares against the blush rising up his neck. He does remember Bokuto saying something about recording the whole ordeal, but didn’t think he was actually  _ serious. _

“Bo, I  _ will _ kill you,” Kuroo sneers as the two join them in the middle of the courtyard.

“Nah, you won’t. Man, this is pure gold. Tsukki what did you do, hit him?” Bokuto is too busy rewatching the video and laughing, but Kei answers him anyway.

“I flicked him in the ear. Payment for the past few months.”

Kuroo feigns shock, holding a hand up to his chest and wearing a sore attempt at puppy dog eyes.

“What do you have to say to that Kuroo?” Bokuto holds a pretend microphone to his best friend’s mouth, interviewer style.

“I,” Kuroo starts, but looking at the bemused expression Kei is wearing he stops and says, “Yeah no he’s got a point.”

Bokuto explodes in laughter once again. “This is the best. Keiji, is this not the best?”

Akaashi, softly smiling beside him looks from Kei to Kuroo and says, “A long time coming, if I do say so myself.”

“...What?” Both Kei and Kuroo say at the same time, dumbfounded.

Bokuto waltzes up to Kei and puts a hand on his shoulder, smiling devilishly. “Oh Tsukki, the amount of  _ stories _ I have from your first year at the training camp and onward.”

“Bo I swear to fucking  _ god _ \--” Kuroo growls, lunging at a cackling Bokuto, who already knew to dodge out of the way just in time. 

“Well! I’d say our work here is done, and we’ve got--” Bokuto pauses to check his phone--”Oh shit, less than fifteen minutes ‘til our team meeting. See you lovebirds in the gym!” He tugs at the sleeve of Akaashi’s jersey before turning to head back, but Akaashi pauses for a moment longer.

Akaashi slings a bag off his shoulder and holds it out. Kei looks at him for a second too long before he makes the (very delayed) realization that it’s  _ his _ bag.

“My apologies, Tsukishima-kun. I’ll admit, I wanted to watch too. Plus, it’d probably give the first years a fright if a random graduate from an opposing team showed up in their room.”

Kei can’t manage a single word against the twinkle in Akaashi’s eyes and the knowingness in his smile, so he just nods and transfers the bag to his own shoulder.

“See you both in a few.” Akaashi joins Bokuto, waving his right hand in a final greeting. When he fully turns his back on them Kei notices something that makes his heart squeeze. Two linked pinky fingers. Such a small, simple gesture of affection but it somehow manages to say so much.

It’s not until the two have turned the corner out of sight that he snaps back into reality. The reality in which Kuroo is standing next to him, equally dumbstruck, equally at a loss.

Slowly, they turn to look at each other, the other’s eyes still not quite registering the information presented before them.

“I—“

They say in unison, and Kuroo cackles a laugh while Kei immediately brings a hand to his lips to mask his own.

“Well. We both should head back as well then?” Kuroo suggests, hands lazily stuffed in his pockets, hair as much of a disaster as ever. Yeah, it’s undeniably Kuroo.

“Tsukki?”

Oh, god. He hadn’t responded because he was too busy staring. For Christ’s sake...

“Ah, sorry, yeah, um…” Kei looks around the courtyard and back at Kuroo. “I kinda don’t know where we are right now.”

Kuroo chuckles and Kei bites his cheek so he doesn’t smile. A recurring problem that’s probably only going to get worse in the foreseeable future.

“Right, sorry, I’ll take you there. Everyone’s staying in the same building anyway.”

Resisting another deer-in-the-headlights moment, Kei nods and replies, “Thanks.”

The two of them head out of the courtyard in the same direction Akaashi and Bokuto had and Kei’s mind is a  _ mess. _

_ Do I say something? Am I supposed to say something? Is it awkward if I don’t say anything? He smells good. What the fuck don’t think that right now??? Okay maybe I’ll say something. _

_ … _

_ What do I say? _

“Sooo,” Kuroo starts, and Kei breathes a mental sigh of relief. “About Bo’s comment earlier, if you could, I dunno, Men in Black that shit, that’d be great.”

Kei snorts, both at the movie reference and at the notion of being able to forget the fact that Bokuto has incriminating stories about Kuroo that involve  _ him. _

“Oh? But I was already planning to text him about that later,” Kei states matter-of-factly, and he can see Kuroo’s betrayed expression in the corner of his eyes. 

Fool. Now he’s only gonna fuck with him harder. What was it that Bokuto called him earlier? “A little shit?” Sure, why not.

“What? How bad can it be? I’m looking forward to it, truly.” Kei keeps his eyes forward, knowing his act will shatter under Kuroo’s gaze.

Kuroo raises a bargaining hand in the air. “A thousand yen to not ask about it.” 

“How cheap do you think I am?” Kei sneers.

“Five thousand yen!”

“Nope.”

“A hundred thousand!!”

“Now that’s just irresponsible.”

“Fine, I’ll bring you strawberry shortcake from my favorite bakery tomorrow morning.”

Kei positively hates himself for the way the corners of his mouth quirk up at that.

“I saw that!! Don’t pretend that isn’t tempting!!” Kuroo is all flailing arms and exasperated expressions so Kei gives in and glances over at him, allowing the smile from before to fully form.

“Alright, deal.”

Kuroo literally hunches over in a sigh, and Kei lets out the smallest of laughs. “You know, the smarter option would have been to just go bribe Yamaguchi for info, but I’ll take the shortcake.”

_ Wait. _

“Wait, huh?” Kuroo perks up.

_ Shit. _

“Nothing, you better be serious about the shortcake, though.” 

“No wait Tsukki wait what do you mean—“

“Oh, okay I recognize this building, thanks for the guide, Kuroo-san!” Kei gives him one of those eyes-closed pleasantry smiles and heads inside, disregarding the “TSUKKIIII” echoing behind him.

Obviously he can’t actually escape  _ that _ easily, the two teams are in the same building after all, but Kuroo makes the smart choice to drop the subject for now.

They walk in tandem up the stairs to the second floor where the classrooms the teams use for sleeping quarters are. His teammates’ voices start to become audible and the dream-like aura of the past however many minutes starts to fade away.

When they reach the top Kuroo throws a thumb toward the right. “We’re down the hall that way. Fukurodani’s down that way too, but you guys are here on the left.”

Kei could have guessed, because he can hear the literal running steps of the only two people who would be running in the halls of a school during a training camp.

“HUH? TSUKISHIMA! THERE YOU ARE!”

“Why must he always yell?” Kei laments to himself, and the running stops as Hinata and Kageyama come to a halt in front of them.

“OOOOH! You were with Nekoma’s captain?” Hinata announces, far too loudly.

“Former captain,” Kageyama corrects.  _ (Well, he’s right.) _

Kuroo laughs goodheartedly, because of course he does. “Chibi-chan, long time no see. You grown at all?”

“A whole centimeter!!” 

“Bet you can jump even higher now. Looking forward to what freakish miracles you two bring to the court this year. See you in the gym?” Kuroo says pleasantly, executing the kindest but slyest version of “hello nice to see you but please leave”. 

Hinata and Kageyama give a confident nod at him, and without another look at Kei start running down the stairs.

“I’ll admit, that was impressive,” Kei says despite himself.

“What can I say, I’m a businessman.” Kuroo grins.

Kei grins back at him, and for a moment neither say a word. He needs to go put his bags in the room and Kuroo certainly needs to get back to his team too. But every cell in Kei’s body is screaming to not let this moment end. Despite the fact that he’s made it here to Tokyo, it’s not like they’re going to get much time alone like this. By the way Kuroo doesn’t offer an immediate goodbye, Kei thinks that just maybe, he might be thinking the same thing.

“Tsukki?”

Kei snaps around at the sound of Yamaguchi’s voice. He’s peering from around the door of Karasuno’s room wearing a bemused expression that has Kei immediately feeling like he’s been caught doing something he’s not supposed to.

Kuroo must have shot a hand up in greeting, because Yamaguchi awkwardly returns it with his own. He meets Kei’s eyes one final time and nods, disappearing back behind the door. Kei will thank him for that later.

He turns back around to look at Kuroo, who’s wearing a look that strikes a million pin needles into Kei’s heart.

“Really gotta get going now, but I’ll see you back at the gym, yeah?” Kuroo says softly.

“Yeah,” Kei replies reluctantly.

Kuroo quickly surveys the whole hallway, and before Kei can ask what he’s doing, strong arms are wrapping around him and there’s a soft press of lips against his temple. 

It’s over before any of it clicks, before any of the emotions and feelings can fully sink in. Kuroo waves a hand behind him, coy smile on his face for the cherry on top, and walks away.

And then it clicks.

Kei sinks to the floor and puts his face in his hands. There is no way  _ any _ of that just happened. He’s not in Tokyo. He didn’t just have a rom-com worthy reunion. Kuroo Tetsurou did not just kiss him. There’s just. No. Way.

He brings one of his hands to his right temple and touches the exact spot where he could have  _ sworn _ Kuroo’s lips just were. Right. Because Kuroo kissed him. Does that even count? His temple is a part of his body and therefore an essence of himself so technically speaking yes it does. Kuroo kissed him.

Kei thinks he could spend the rest of the training camp having a crisis on the floor but the voices of the restless second and first years coming from Karasuno’s room snaps him out of it. He stands up just in time for the door to be thrown open as Yamaguchi hollers “You better not get lost!” at the stampede of Karasuno members who dart right past him and down the stairs.

“Ah, Tsukki, there’s no one else here, you can come get changed, I’ll wait for you!” Yamaguchi smiles softly at him.

Kei picks his bag off the floor and heads into their designated room. It looks the same as last year, and the year before. Futons lined up in neat rows on the floor, bags’ contents scattered half-hazardly around them. Doing a quick count, there’s already enough laid out to account for him.

“I set up your futon while you were gone. We’re right here!” Yamaguchi gestures to the two futons closest to the door.  _ Easy accessible escape route... _ Kei thinks to himself. The fact that Yamaguchi thought so far as to assure this level of security for him, Kei can be nothing but grateful.

“Thank—“ Kei turns to thank him, but stops mid sentence. Yamaguchi is quite literally vibrating in place, an excited smile brimming across his freckled face.

“Soooooo?” Yamaguchi sing-songs, leaning a bit too far into Kei’s bubble.

Kei jerks his head away, fighting down the threatening blush as the events from a mere minute ago come back to his memory. “I’ll...tell you later.”

“Oh come on!” Yamaguchi pouts, “I saw you get swept away with the Fukurodani Senpai and knew you were in for something more than you could have thought up. I’m dying to know!!”

Kei drops his bag on his futon and kneels down to open the main pouch containing his clothes. “That’s an understatement. But like I said, later.”

“Reunited and it feels so good~~” Yamaguchi sings, crouching down next to him.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi.”

“Sorry Tsukki!” He giggles, then stands back up, allowing Kei time to sort through his duffle bag.

Kei won’t be playing, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have to dress the part. Sports shoes are required to even step foot in the gym, so he had to bring his. 

Around the end of January, his pair of hand-me-downs from Akiteru started to get a little too tight. Akiteru complained about Kei growing too fast, and Kei still wonders if his brother felt sad that he would no longer be using his old shoes. Kei couldn’t put a finger on how he felt about it himself, but when they went shopping for a new pair the next month he insisted on one with the same green pattern, so maybe that says something. 

They’re practically brand new still, a bit stiff when he slips his feet in and tugs at the laces. Well, they had only been used a few times, after all.

He stands, wiggling his toes inside his shoes and once again feels like he can’t pinpoint what he’s feeling. One thing he knows for certain, it’s probably not normal to have such a strange relationship with a pair of shoes. Oh well.

Kei looks up and nods at Yamaguchi. “We’ll get our numbered jerseys in the gym, let’s get going,” he replies.

They grab their water bottles, Yamaguchi grabs his towel, and they head to the gym. This marks Kei’s third year at the Tokyo training camps, but somehow the familiarity of it all feels...off. It’s not that he doesn’t recognize the campus or remember the walk to the gym, he does. It’s more like he sees things a bit differently this time around. Maybe it’s the feeling of finality of his third year looming over him that has opened his eyes a little more. Or maybe it’s the circumstances that brought him here. Like receiving a perfect score after hours of grueling studying or mastering a jump float after weeks of non-stop practice. Just being here is the outcome of Kei’s tireless fighting. Compared to the years before when he couldn’t care less about being here, he appreciates the opportunity now. He sees everything clearer, feels every second deeper. Just maybe, there’s a part of him that recognizes the fact that he’s earned this.

The main gym comes into view and Kei can hear the echo of balls ricocheting and gym shoes squeaking. He remembers his first year and how much he absolutely loathed having to come here. Now, there are butterflies in his stomach and a whole lot of who-knows-what brewing in his chest just at the thought of getting to step inside this gym.

A lot has changed, huh.

The gym seems wider now somehow, though there’s still only two courts. Kei notices Shinzen and Ubugawa are here again too. On the court closest to him, Shinzen and Fukurodani are getting ready to start their first match. On the opposite end, Ubugawa and Nekoma have already started playing.

He can’t help himself from immediately scanning the flashes of red on the far end of the gym, but he doesn’t have to search for long. Despite the distance, he finds Kuroo, who has already found him as well. He’s standing beside Coach Nekomata holding a clipboard, but his attention is far from his notes or the game itself. 

If he’s honest, this is how Kei thought the big surprise would originally go down. Just “oh hey, surprise, I’m here.” communicated via what, telepathy? What a shitty reunion that would have made. He curses himself for it, but in hindsight he is beyond grateful for the dramatics Bokuto set up. 

Kuroo gives him a coy smile and Kei doubts he’s going to do much studying of his own team like he’s  _ supposed _ to be doing on this trip.

He feels a nudge against his arm and at the same time, Kuroo looks away. Yamaguchi, clearly in captain mode, finally grabs Kei’s attention and says, “Come on Tsukki, you can ogle your boyfriend later. We gotta actually join the team for warm-ups.”

“He’s not—he’s not my boyfr—what the fuck, Yamaguchi?” Kei stammers, glaring at the back of his best friend’s head, but follows him regardless. 

When Yamaguchi said “join the team for warmups” it didn’t actually include Kei, so he heads straight for the bench where Yachi sits, giving him a friendly smile and wave. He nods as he takes a seat next to her and forces himself to not look at the court on the opposite side.

“I’m so happy you could make it, Tsukishima-kun, how are you feeling?” she asks brightly.

Before Kei can feel any form of grudge at being asked how he is, he remembers that Yachi suffers with anxiety of her own, which softens his response. “I’m fine, thanks. Definitely weird being here and not playing, though.”

Yachi hums. “I imagine so. But I think this is a wonderful chance to experience volleyball in a different light, don’t you think? I believe it’ll give you an edge when you get back on the court for the Spring Tournament.”

The Spring Tournament? Kei has definitely not thought that far. He got to Tokyo and that was hard enough as it is. One step at a time, please.

“She’s got a damn good point!” Coach Ukai appears on his other side, shoving a clipboard in his hands. “These are our current starting rotations. Take note of number 12, he’ll surprise you. I can see you working well with number 9, so watch his movements carefully. Hinata and Kageyama are trying out—“

Kei listens to the rest of Coach Ukai’s lecture, nodding when appropriate as he simultaneously prays for it to end.

He makes somewhat of an effort to go through the notes Yachi offered to him and he even does a brief analysis of each player based on their warm-up performance.

However, resistance is futile, as they say.

They’re like  _ magnets _ . If it’s not Kei catching Kuroo staring at him, it’s the other way around. Each time their eyes meet it’s fire, it’s electricity, it’s longing. Oh god, he’s gone insane, hasn’t he?

He pushes his probably-diagnosable insanity aside to try and focus on the match happening before him. Fukurodani is positively crushing Shinzen, so much is made clear by the hoots and hollers of encouragement coming from Bokuto on the sidelines nearly every play. At this rate it shouldn’t be much longer until they get to take this court. But that means...

“Yachi-san?” Kei asks, quietly, slightly hesitant.

“Hm?”

“Who do we play first?” The twist in his gut already knows the answer, though.

“Oh! Well, assuming Fukurodani takes this game they’ll move up to the next court and whoever loses on the other end will come play us,” she reports cheerfully, happy to be of help as always.

“Right, thanks,” he replies, all too aware of which team is currently losing.

For the remainder of this match he keeps his hands tightly gripped on top of the clipboard, watching the movements of the rival teams. Occasionally he glances down at the notes Yachi gave him, but he never looks further than that.

Soon enough the final point won by Fukurodani’s up-and-coming ace triggers the referee’s whistle, which startles Kei a bit probably because he zoned out somewhere in between getting lost in the notes and his totally-not-looking-across-the-gym act. 

The traditional “thank you for the game” echoes as usual and Shinzen begins their penalty dives.

Jittery tension radiates off of Karasuno like electricity. Hinata has already started jumping in place, hyping up a few of the first and second years along with him. 

“Looks like we’ll be up against Nekoma,” Yamaguchi, appearing out of  _ nowhere, _ murmurs beside Kei.

Kei gives a quick glance at the scoreboard (and nowhere else) which reads 24-18, so yeah, he’s probably right. He already knew, of course, but for the sake of his sanity tried to pretend as long as he could that it wouldn’t be the case.

As if on cue, another whistle goes off, and Nekoma is off on their penalty dives. 

“What’s the matter Kuroo Senpai? Your Kouhai a little rusty this morning?” Bokuto taunts, and Kei can’t help but snap his attention over to Kuroo’s reaction.

Just as expected, Kuroo’s practically snarling, arms crossed and head cocked, and Kei has to fight back a smirk at the sight.

“Don’t want to hurt your pride by crushing you guys so early now, would we? We’re just getting started,” Kuroo sneers back, puffing his chest to match Bokuto’s cocky stance.

Bokuto throws his head back in a one-off cackle before slamming a hand down on Kuroo’s shoulders and getting probably a bit too close to his face than is allowed in bro-code before replying, “Just try it.”

Kuroo takes the mature route and doesn’t say a word nor moves a muscle. Mature really isn’t the right word, Bokuto straight up shut him the fuck down and he had no comeback. Simple as that.

_ Damn, _ Kei thinks to himself, then secretly prays that when those teams go at it it’ll be while Karasuno is on another recess. The rival bro-drama between Kuroo and Bokuto is not something even he wants to miss.

Bokuto saunters away, and the moment he’s out of range Kuroo finally lets out a “tch” and Kei can’t hold back his smirk this time.

God, he wishes he did, because he forgot their eyes were fucking magnetic. He doesn’t know what’s worse, being thrown into a fiery pit of spikes or being caught staring at Kuroo Tetsurou by Kuroo Tetsurou himself. He has no concept of what being thrown into a fiery pit of spikes is like, but right now he thinks that option wouldn’t be so bad.

Yeah, he’ll definitely take the fiery pit of spikes, especially now that Kuroo has changed his irritated-by-Bokuto expression into the most self-indulgent smirk Kei has ever seen. Kuroo rolls his neck a little too slowly, stuffs his hands in his jersey pockets, and starts walking over, smirk still glued to his stupid handsome face.

Kei looks away, because maybe if he ignores him he won’t come any closer, but the fact of the matter is if he does come any closer Kei is just going to burst into flames or some shit and he’d like to avoid causing a scene in the gym. 

Yachi must have caught wind of what’s about to happen, because she skittishly stands up and walks away despite Kei’s internal monologue crying  _ Nooo come back.  _

There’s a heavy  _ thunk _ beside him, to which Kei reflexively tenses up at. There’s a considerable gap between them on the bench, but even so he can feel Kuroo’s warmth like he’s a portable heater. Or maybe that’s just Kei threatening to burst into flames just like he thought he would.

Kuroo leans in and  _ GOD why is he so warm?  _ “What’s the matter, Tsukki? Those wandering eyes of yours had their fix?” 

Kei glares at nothing, decidedly not giving Kuroo the attention he’s fishing for even though he has no right to deny the claim of wandering eyes.  _ Fuck _ .

“I believe it takes two pairs of eyes to notice that sort of thing, Kuroo-san,” Kei retorts.

“Oh, I’m not denying that at all.” Kuroo laughs, inching just a fraction closer. “Honestly, it’s just amazing to have you finally notice.”

Kei whips his head so fast it almost hurts. “Pardon?”

Kuroo chuckles and looks up at the gym ceiling, small smile on his face, and—wait—is that a hint of a blush too…? “Bo’s basically thrown me under the bus already, might as well lie there.”

“Kuroo-san I don’t und—“

“This sounds creepy as fuck but please don’t take it that way, but it’s not like now is the only time I’ve watched you, Tsukki.”

“Well, you basically trained me my first year, it’s not like you could have done that blind,” Kei replies flatly. He’s not stupid, the rapid beating of his heart proves he knows where Kuroo is going with this, but it wouldn’t be like him to not make him suffer in the meanwhile.

Kuroo looks at him completely unamused, a success in Kei’s book. “You know that’s not what I mean, Tsukki.”

“Hm? Not sure I do.”

“You’re a little shit you know that?”

“I’ve been told once or twice.”

Kuroo sighs, but not in a totally fed up kind of way. It’s the kind of sigh you do when Bokuto gets a little too excited over something and knocks over his drink in the dining hall because he wasn’t paying attention. Or the kind of sigh you do when Kenma has been tirelessly trying to clear a level for nearly an hour but dies _ just _ short of the clear point. It’s a fond sigh. And it makes Kei warmer than it should, because he usually goes for the “totally fed up” kind of sighs when he fucks with people.

“I remember the Spring High Tournament from my third year, we had just beat Sarukawa and went to watch you guys face off against Inarizaki. At the time, I wanted nothing more than for you to win so we could finally make the Battle at the Trash Heap a reality. But while I watched you guys play, it became clear where my focus was. Well, it’s more like Kenma made clear where my focus was. Apparently I couldn’t shut up about you. Every comment I made had to do with your blocking or the things I thought were going through your mind as you played. But I couldn’t help it, you were like a bright light I couldn’t look away from. I watched you go from not giving a shit about volleyball to giving it your absolute all and it was mesmerizing. And god, when we finally did face off and I asked you how volleyball was for you, I don’t think you could have given a more perfect response.”

Kei is having a million breakdowns at once with every word Kuroo says, but his brain gives him a break to bring that memory to the forefront of his mind. Of course he remembers it as clear as day, just like every interaction he’s had with Kuroo up until now. Maybe he’ll tell him that one day, or maybe he won’t.

_ “Hey Tsukki, how’s volleyball been for ya lately?” _

_ “Thanks to you...and I mean that, too. Thanks to you, once in a while...it’s actually kind of fun.” _

When Kei said that, of course he thought of Bokuto and Akaashi as well. They had a hand in his development too, there’s no denying it. But when he really peels away at all the layers and gets to the root of it all, it’s Kuroo. It was always Kuroo. And to think that that just maybe, for Kuroo too…

“And that’s when I realized,” Kuroo continues, “that from the moment I met you there was something about you that I gravitated to. I like to fuck with people, if you didn’t notice, but you’re my favorite person to fuck with. Always have been. I also love watching people improve and grow to love volleyball, but I’ve loved watching you the most. Always have. The times I got to see you after the Spring Tournament were slim to none, but during those few times I’ll admit it was difficult to focus anywhere else.”

“So,” Kuroo says, and turns to look Kei in the eyes, all too pleased to find they were already waiting to meet his, “I think I’ll be having the same difficulty this time around also, but if for once I can be the reason you have trouble focusing too...I’ll be pretty damn happy.”

Kei thinks there’s a million retorts he could give to that. Some far too cold, some far too embarrassing, so he settles for a healthy middle ground with a foundation in honesty. “For once? Kuroo-san, if that’s what you think then I’m not quite sure just how much you’ve been paying attention all this time.”

“Huh?” Kuroo’s eyes go wide at the same time as a referee whistle goes off, tearing the both of them out from this little bubble they’ve created around themselves and back into reality. 

“Ah, shit. Speaking of losing focus, right? I gotta head over to Nekoma’s bench. I’ll annoy you some more at lunch time, ‘kay?” Kuroo stands up, smiling softly, and that same feeling from earlier dreading the separation bubbles back up to the surface.

“Right. Counting on it,” Kei replies, a bit dumbstruck as he watches Kuroo walk away. Well, the middle of a gym during a volleyball training camp probably wasn’t the most appropriate place for a conversation like that. The fire inside him still isn’t settling and the things Kuroo said are swimming around in his head like a whirlpool. 

There’s so much he needs to process. His team is on the court now, Coach Ukai is heading back from his banter with Coach Nekomata, and Yachi has sensed the OK to return to the bench. 

Kei checks the gym clock and Jesus, it’s only 11 in the morning. Way, way too much has happened over the span of a few hours and there’s still the rest of the training camp to go. Well, if all of  _ that _ happened in such a short time, then he’s really looking forward to what’s to come.

Yeah. He’s really, really happy he made it here.

**_It was always you falling for me_ **

**_Now there’s always time calling for me_ **

**_I’m the light blinking at the end of the road_ **

**_Blink back to let me know_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Always You - Panic! At the Disco
> 
> These two are utterly hopeless. And I'm loving every second of it.  
> Thank you all so, so much for your heartwarming, kind comments on the last update. I was so excited to bring you that chapter. I could not keep writing this without your constant encouragement. From the bottom of my heart, thank you T_T <3
> 
> Next update:12/08


	15. always you pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tetsurou figured that’s just how he was. All spikes and crude remarks on the outside, but something else on the inside. Tetsurou really wanted to find out what that “something else” was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w:  
> difficult relationship with food

**_July 19th, afternoon_ **

Kuroo Tetsurou has always been an instigator. He’s always known just how to get under someone’s skin, how to rile them up. It’s all in good fun though, he never means harm. (Unless it’s Daishou, then maybe he throws a bit more venom in than normal.)

“You’re such a people person!” others often tell him. 

“How do you have such good communication skills?” others often ask him. 

“Stop reading people, it’s creepy.” Kenma  _ very _ often tells him.

It all comes down to the simple fact that people are predictable. Tetsurou can watch a person for a few minutes and easily guess the way they’ll act next, the kinds of things they’ll say, etc. He can find a weak spot in seconds and he’ll poke and prod at it to get a reaction out of them. And nine times out of ten, it’s the exact reaction he expects.

However, every so often someone will surprise him. And when that happens, it piques Tetsurou’s interest. Hard.

In all 19-going-on-20 years of Tetsurou’s life, no one has surprised him as much as the scowling blonde sitting over on the opposing team’s bench.

The day Tetsurou met Tsukishima Kei, he thought nothing more of him than just “that tall, lanky glasses kid from Karasuno”. But after he convinced him to run block practice with their group, he felt like he got a better read on him. Emphasis on thought.

_ “Hey glasses, you’re good at reading blocks, but your arms are so frail I think they’re gonna break! It freaks me out!” Bokuto lamented, pouting the way he does when he can’t spike as freely as he wants to. _

_ Tetsurou watched the blonde closely, trying to get a read on how he would respond to that. _

_ “I’m still a growing boy after all! I’ve just started gaining muscle and getting taller!” he replied with a bit of dramatics, hands on his hips and a fake smile on his face. _

_ This is weird. He’s definitely got potential, but he’s not acknowledging it at all. Why…? Tetsurou wondered. _

_ “Keep thinking like that and the little shrimp is gonna hog all the glory, ya know?” Tetsurou stepped in to say. _

_ Again, Tetsurou watched him closely. The kid went quiet for a moment before turning to face him with a calm, but unsettling smile. _

_ “I don’t think that can be helped,” he said, bringing a hand behind his neck, “the difference in natural talent between me and Hinata is just too great.” _

_ “Huh?” Tetsurou and Bokuto responded in unison. _

_ That...was not at all what I was expecting, Tetsurou thought to himself. _

_ Inuoka and Lev announced their presence in the gym, and not soon after the blonde excused himself. _

_ “Hey!” Tetsurou called after him, but it was no use. He was gone without a single care in the world. _

_ “Looks like you stepped on a landmine, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi scolded from the other side of the net. _

_ “You pissed him off~~” Bokuto sneered. “At long last, Kuroo-kun, master of provocation, has failed!” _

_ All Tetsurou could do was sigh. “Well, I never would have expected that.” _

That was the first time Tsukki surprised him. From then on, he became a mystery Tetsurou was dead set on solving. He remembers turning to Daichi the day after that first incident under the guise of apologizing for setting Tsukki off, but he was really just fishing for information. He learned Tsukki had an older brother that may have played for Karasuno, but that didn’t connect any dots for him at all. 

Then, Tsukki surprised him again. He visited their practice session on his own accord, seeking answers to some doubts that, looking back now, were definitely holding him back. He practiced with them willingly after that, taking in every word of advice Tetsurou offered him. Tsukki followed his lead, applying his techniques so quickly it made Tetsurou feel both proud and something else he couldn’t pinpoint at the time. 

From then on, Tsukki became more and more fun to mess with. Quickly, Tetsurou learned what made him tick. His reactions, albeit predictable, filled him with so much satisfaction it was addicting. 

Tsukki never looked happy to see him, which made Tetsurou want to see him even more. After all, despite not looking happy, Tsukki never once outright rejected his presence. 

Tetsurou figured that’s just how he was. All spikes and crude remarks on the outside, but something else on the inside. Tetsurou really wanted to find out what that “something else” was.

But time moves too fast, and so the summer training camps of his third year came to an end before he could chip away at more than just a few of those spikes.

_ “Oi, Tsukki!” Tetsurou called out. _

_ He was already on his way down the steps with his freckled friend, heading toward Karasuno’s bus, but stopped to turn around at the sound of Tetsurou’s voice. _

_ The evening breeze was making the short strands of Tsukki’s bangs dance, distracting Tetsurou for a moment, so he had to pause and choose his words carefully. “See you next time, yeah? Need you on my side to shut up that annoying owl during free practice.” _

_ Tsukki’s eyes widened a fraction at that, but he looked down immediately as if to erase the reaction before Tetsurou could notice. When he looked back up again though, he wore the smallest of smirks. “Yeah. See you.” And then he turned back around. _

_ “Hey!” Bokuto’s voice rang out loudly beside him. “How come he doesn’t get pissed when you call him Tsukki? That’s not fair.” (That’s what he’s mad about?) _

_ Tetsurou let out a small laugh despite himself. “Who knows.” _

_ Bokuto threw a hand to his jaw, humming aloud in thought before announcing, “Ya know, Tsukki’s kind of an asshole. But I like him.”  _

_ “Yeah.” Tetsurou laughed again, “Yeah, me too.” _

It’s been two years since then. How has it already been two years since then? After graduation, Tetsurou chose to continue volunteering at Nekoma for job experience and future resume purposes, but he won’t deny the additional benefits. The  _ look _ on Tsukki’s face when he saw Tetsurou in the gym at the first communal practice of the next year was priceless.

_ “What’s the matter Tsukki? Unhappy to see your favorite mentor still around?” Kuroo threw an arm around Tsukki’s shoulders, an act that surprised even himself. Tsukki too, clearly, given the fact that he froze in place for several beats before his brain clicked and shrugged his arm off. _

_ “Kuroo-san,” he replied, half in confirmation, half in question, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be, I dunno, at university or something?” _

_ Tetsurou put his hands on his hips, grinning. “University students choose their schedules, ya know. Plus, the reason I’m here is for academic purposes anyway. Wait, holy shit, did you get  _ **_taller?_ ** _ ” Tetsurou went to measure with his hand, but Tsukki swatted it away. He saw that coming though, so he just laughed, which only irked Tsukki more. Success. _

_ “Stellar observation, Kuroo-san, now if you’ll excuse me.” Tsukki turned away to catch up with that freckled friend of his, who snickered and nudged his sides, earning a solid shove in return.  _

_ Oh, that’s interesting, Tetsurou thought to himself, but dismissed the thought soon after. _

Outside of the occasional communal practices and training camps, Tetsurou didn’t talk to Tsukki much during that second year. He swindled him into exchanging phone numbers, but never found the resolve to actually message him. But that didn’t mean that he forgot about him, or stopped wondering how he was doing. He just figured Tsukki was fine on his own, living his own life.

However, when the accident happened and the information traveled to Tetsurou’s circle, he couldn’t just let what would be, be. That’s not how he operates, especially not in regards to someone he genuinely cares for. Ah, he’s dwelled on this part enough already. The point is, Tsukki has done nothing but surprise him again and again since they got closer, and Tetsurou finally,  _ finally  _ feels like he’s just about finished off those protective spikes of his.

He’s already seen a glimpse of it, that “something else” that’s inside Tsukki. He’s seen it glow through the cracks. It’s brilliant, it’s beautiful, a flickering orange flame just waiting to be set ablaze. Now, all Tetsurou wants is to be by his side when it finally is. He wants to watch him burn brighter than a thousand suns, searing through all of the pain and struggle that have tried to suffocate him for so long. 

He can see it in his eyes now, too. Especially now that he’s seen them outside of just a screen, thanks to yet another surprise he never saw coming. There’s a shine in them now that wasn’t there before. 

Tetsurou remembers the first time they Skyped. He had to try so hard to keep his reaction hidden because Tsukki looked completely dead inside. There was no light in his eyes, like all the energy had been completely drained out of him and he was just running on autopilot.

But today, Tsukki’s eyes crinkled at the sides when he laughed. They widened in surprise, they squinted in his usual irritation, they softened into some emotion Tetsurou is still scared to make assumptions of. Across every expression it was plain as day, his eyes had life in them again. 

Tetsurou knows he’s still struggling, though. Tsukki’s probably still got a long way to go, but seeing him like this, feeling the way he grabbed onto the back of his jacket with such vigor, it fills him with so much hope. Tsukki’s never been one to believe in hope, but Tetsurou always has been. If one of them’s gotta hold onto it, he’ll grasp onto it hard enough for the both of them.

Ah, how long has he been in his head? Tetsurou glances down at his clipboard, then over at the scoreboard. Shit. He zoned out for a solid three rallies. Time to focus. Karasuno is putting up a good fight, but he’s raised up his Nekoma kouhai well, if he says so himself. He passed down his beloved group chant as well, but when Kenma became a third year he vetoed it. It doesn’t stop Tetsurou from yelling it through the walls of their connecting dorm rooms from time to time, though.

Karasuno’s offense has only improved over the years and their new libero is fairly talented as well. However, it’s clear that they’re lacking in front row defense.

Tetsurou turns his head ever so slightly, just to catch a small glimpse of Tsukki on the opponent bench. His arms are folded, body slouched, but he’s focused. Suddenly, his posture straightens and Tetsurou can hear one of his own third years shout “Two blockers!!” He keeps his eyes on Tsukki, who clicks his tongue and slouches back down. Ah, Karasuno couldn’t follow through with the block. This has gotta be hard for Tsukki to watch...he’s probably thinking of all the things he would do differently. Knowing him, he’s seen through half of Nekoma’s attacks and could have shut them down by himself were he on the court.

Just as he was thinking that, Tsukki glances over and quirks an eyebrow at him as if to say “I know what you’re thinking, shut up.” Tetsurou simply grins at him and nods, to which Tsukki rolls his eyes, returning his focus to the game.

Ah, Tetsurou loves communal practices, especially the summer training camps. But for once, he really really wants these matches to hurry up and finish.

He forces himself to focus and the next two hours go by in the blink of an eye. Various whistles go off and respective coaches are announcing lunch time and giving instructions on what time to meet back in the gym. A stampede of first and second years dash out of the gym desperate for food, while others hang back to dry off, drink some water, or regroup with their friends. Bokuto and Akaashi are in their own little world in the corner, probably waiting for the rest of the team to leave so they can run off together somewhere.

Tetsurou’s eyes make a beeline for Tsukki across the gym, who seems to be making some excuse to Freckles to have him go ahead without him.  _ Yamaguchi, that’s his name,  _ Tetsurou scolds himself. He’s been referring to him as Freckles for two years now, but someone so important to Tsukki deserves to have their real name used. 

Yamaguchi leaves without further question and Tsukki glances over to meet Tetsurou’s gaze. Will he ever get used to that? Nope, he doesn’t think so. On the outside he’s totally put together, signature sly grin wrapped in confidence, but on the inside he’s resisting every urge to run across the gym and squeeze Tsukki to death for being so fucking  _ cute. _

Maintaining his cool-calm-and-collected ruse Tetsurou saunters over, laughing on the inside because Tsukki is trying _so_ hard to look everywhere but him.

“Good work,” Tetsurou says. The typical after-match greeting, but he just knows Tsukki will have some snippy comeback.

“Thanks, my eyes are exhausted from watching,” Tsukki replies flatly.  _ Yup, there it is. _

Tetsurou laughs lightly, nudging him with his elbow. “Would you be so kind as to allow me to accompany you to the cafeteria?”

“I didn’t wait here for nothing, so,” he stops mid sentence, glancing away. Tetsurou laughs again. He still has a hard time being direct, it’s cute. It’s very “Tsukki.” Tetsurou wouldn’t have it any other way.

They walk together in comfortable silence, much like their “just because” Skype calls. Tetsurou has long known Tsukki isn’t the type to break the silence unless he has something really valuable to say, but he’ll put up with whatever nonsense that pops up in Tetsurou’s mind and banter effortlessly.

Much unlike their Skype calls though, they’re actually walking side by side, under the same sky, breathing the same air. Resisting taking Tsukki’s hand in his own feels like fighting against gravity. He doesn’t want to push too far too fast, so he settles for walking close enough that their T-shirt sleeves brush against each other slightly.

As if he read his mind (again) Tsukki leans in, letting their arms touch as well, and Tetsurou has to physically bite back a small gasp. It’s only for a few steps though, because the sound of voices from around the corner makes them instinctively separate. It’s just a few Shinzen members who pay no attention to them at all, but the moment is gone.

They sigh in tandem, and for a moment Tetsurou thinks to chuckle at it, but the second his eyes land on the expression Tsukki is wearing he stops himself. The realization hits him all at once.

Cafeteria. Communal eating. Food.

The dread is written all over his face and Tetsurou wishes he could do  _ something.  _ Anything that could take all that he must be feeling away, but he knows he can’t. 

He’s learned Tsukki isn’t one for encouraging words when he’s already at war inside his own head, so Tetsurou does the only thing he can think of that will express his support in a way that’s clear but not overwhelming. He places his hand gently on the small of Tsukki’s back, not pushing, simply to draw him out of his mind and into the reality where he’s got someone by his side.

It seems to work, because his long eyelashes blink a few times behind his glasses and he sheepishly nods in Tetsurou’s direction.

“Why don’t we just find somewhere to sit first?” Tetsurou offers, rubbing his hand in a slow, circular motion.

“Yeah, okay,” Tsukki replies.

Tetsurou’s not one to regret what’s already been done, but he really  _ really  _ wishes he could hop in a time machine and kick the 17 year old version of himself who tried shoving more food into Tsukki’s face right in the ass. 

The cafeteria’s bustling with students shoveling inhuman amounts of food in their faces while somehow having loud conversations around it.  _ High schoolers are impressive,  _ he thinks to himself, as if he and Bokuto wouldn’t literally argue via unintelligible shouting due to the amount of meat packed into their mouths two years ago. Oh, wait, they still do that.

Tetsurou notices Tsukki deliberately scanning the room for an empty table, which there aren’t many of. 

“Do you have a preference..?” Seating options aren’t a choice Tetsurou would normally think twice about, so he figures leaving it up to Tsukki is the best option.

“Is over there okay?” he replies, hands clasped tightly together so he has to gesture with his elbow in the direction he’s referring to.

“Of course!” Tetsurou agrees without another thought. They weave their way in and out of the rows of tables, no one paying them any mind. It’s only when they finally make it to the table that he realizes why Tsukki chose this table instead of all the other open ones. 

The toilets are right around the corner.

Tetsurou’s heart drops, but he doesn’t show it on his face. Tsukki is too busy glaring in the general direction of Chibi-chan across the room who finally noticed his presence, anyway.

_ “I need an escape route, so I always know exactly where the doors are, and I  _ _ have _ _ to know where the bathroom is,” Tsukki explained plainly. “It’s more of a worst case scenario kind of thing, I’ve never had to actually excuse myself like that before, but just knowing I could if I had to is enough to calm me down a little...if that makes sense.” _

_ Tetsurou nodded firmly at his screen, “That makes complete sense, very tactical, actually. You ever thought about committing a heist? I’ll help.”  _

_ The look he got directly into the camera in return was priceless. He’s gotta maintain the atmosphere at a very specific level of delicacy, you see. Get too serious and Tsukki will retract back behind the walls in an instant. Fuck around too much and he’ll dismiss the conversation as unimportant to Tetsurou instead, which is the complete opposite of true. A balance of genuine concern with a sprinkle of ~irresistible personality~ is the formula for success when Tsukki feels like opening up. _

_ “Were I to commit a heist, I assure you it would be a one man job, and no one would ever find out.” _

_ “I can’t tell if that’s terrifying or hot.” _

_ “I will punch you, Kuroo-san.” _

_ “Aw, don’t do that, you’d need a new laptop.” _

There’s still so much more Tetsurou wants to know, wants to understand. For the most part, he still feels like he doesn’t have a clue as to how to help Tsukki despite the fact he has literally taken down notes every single time the wall would crack just enough for a few enlightening tidbits to slip through.

However, being with him in person, it’s completely different. There may be a wall up for the unobservant, but Tetsurou can see it all. The way Tsukki’s hands grip each other, fingers twitching in uneasiness. The way his eyes keep that permanent scowl, but dart every which way, surveying his surroundings. The way his shoulders stiffen, chest rising and falling at a quicker rate than normal.

_ What do I do? What  _ _ can _ _ I do? _

“Hey, uh,” Tetsurou starts, grabbing Tsukki’s attention immediately. “Would it be easier if I grabbed a plate for you? I can imagine the buffet layout might be a bit overwhelming. Just an offer though!” He instinctively brings an awkward hand to rub the back of his neck. For once, he can’t feign confidence or assuredness. He’s lost on how to help, but damn it, he’s gonna try.

Tsukki looks down for a moment, an action Tetsurou has seen countless times on Skype. Generally speaking, if Tsukki can’t maintain eye contact, it’s because someone’s hit the nail on the head.

“Sorry to trouble you. That would be helpful,” he admits.

Tetsurou lets out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

“It’s no trouble at all, I’m the one who offered! Have a seat, what do you feel like eating?” Tetsurou asks, feeling a million times lighter now that he’s found even the smallest ways to be helpful.

“Just a small bowl of rice, please. And some miso soup.” Tsukki’s voice is small, and he still won’t make eye contact, but his shoulders seem a bit more relaxed so Tetsurou will count that as a win.

“Got it! Be right back!”

Back when he was on the court-side of the training camps, Tetsurou always arrived at lunch feeling like he could eat an entire horse. Now that he’s more so on the coaching side of things, his appetite is quite moderate. He’s grateful in that sense, because he can’t imagine it would be pleasant for Tsukki if he showed up with a mountain of rice and fried chicken paired with a forest of veggies and other intimidating side dishes.

So, he settles on a reasonable plate of fried chicken with a slightly larger portion of sides than what Tsukki asked for himself. He proceeds to serve the second plate as well, overthinking each moment he adds a scoop of rice because maybe it’s a little too much? He can’t be sure, so he airs on the side of caution.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” he announces brightly, gently setting the tray of food on the table. Tsukki nods his thanks, eyeing the portion with clear hesitation.

_ Shit, was even that too much? _

“Just eat whatever you can! No pressure!” Tetsurou adds, praying it’ll ease whatever is going through Tsukki’s mind right now.

Another silent nod, then they both mumble their thanks for the food, clapping their hands together quietly. Tetsurou’s hunger has only become more prevalent since the smell of fried chicken overwhelmed his senses, so he immediately gets to eating.

He tries, he really does, to keep his focus on his plate and his plate only, but he can’t help but glance underneath his eyelashes at Tsukki slowly breaking apart his chopsticks to pick up some rice.

He takes a deep breath and puts it in his mouth, chewing slowly and deliberately before swallowing. He goes for a second bite, but just before he picks up the rice, he stops. Suspended over the bowl, the chopsticks remain open, ready for use, but Tsukki pauses for a few seconds before putting them together and resting them atop the bowl instead.

Tetsurou can’t help the words that escape him. “Are you alri—“

“Can you do me a favor?” Tsukki interrupts him, eyes in his lap.

“Uh, sure, of course, anything, what do you need?” Tetsurou doubles back.

“Can you talk to me while you eat? Doesn’t matter what it’s about. Anything is fine. Please.”

The cogs in Tetsurou’s brain click as he remembers a time Tsukki mentioned how music is such a strong coping mechanism for him because it gives something else for his brain to focus on. Well, it may not compare to music, but Tetsurou sure as hell can talk.

Without a second thought he dives into telling him anything and everything that comes to mind. Around mouthfuls of food, he talks about Kenma’s stubborn refusal to accompany him here for even a day. He laments about the various bets he’s got going with Bokuto for the rest of the training camp. He feels like he’s rambling about nothing at all but all that matters is that along the way, Tsukki picked his chopsticks up again.

His stories aren’t anywhere close to a song, and he knows if he started singing in the middle of the school cafeteria Tsukki would probably get up and leave. But if he could, he would. He would sing whatever melody Tsukki wanted him to, for as long as he wanted, until all the pain and worries and fear were swept away with each passing note.

**_When the world gets too heavy_ **

**_Put it on my back_ **

**_I’ll be your levy_ **

**///**

**_July 19th, evening_ **

_ They’re not here? _

_ They’re not here… _

_ They’re...not...here. _

Kei ferociously zips and unzips every pocket of his duffle bag. Once, twice, three times for good measure, diving his hand into every nook and cranny searching, searching, searching, but he comes up empty every time. All that’s inside are his change of clothes, his toothbrush, his headphones, and his glasses case.

He’s not an idiot. He knew the fairytale-worthy whirlwind of the morning wouldn’t last throughout the entire day. Lunch time was a hurdle, to no surprise, but Kuroo’s comforting presence helped him ride the waves of anxiety that threatened to wash him away. That’s the thing about waves though, they roll up into the shore, pull out, but they always roll back in again. 

The only reason he managed to stay put together during the afternoon matches was because all he had to do was sit and watch. Even so, the tightness in his chest sat there like an eager lion, waiting for the best opportunity to pounce and send him into a fit of hyperventilation. Thankfully —if he can even be thankful for this sort of thing— it spared him until free practice.

Yamaguchi had given brief instructions and dismissed the team, allowing them to scatter off in different directions to find practice partners. Then, he immediately made his way over to Kei.

_ “Hey, let’s go take a walk.” _ was all he said, not presumptuous in the least but far too knowing at the same time.

He let Kei take the lead, not saying a word when he started heading in the direction of the sleeping quarters. He didn’t say anything at all actually, just the way Kei likes it, until he noticed the panic in Kei’s movements as he damn near started tearing his bag to shreds and continues to do so now.

“Tsukki…?” Yamaguchi bends down next to him quietly.

After a quadruple check of every single pouch and pocket of his bag, Kei gives up, shoving it aside in defeat.

“They’re not here.”

Yamaguchi moves a little closer, looking at the ragged mess of the bag then up at Kei’s face. “What’s not here?”

“I fucking  _ forgot _ them,” Kei spits out, a heated blaze of anger towards himself brewing quickly, but half of him almost wants to laugh at the cruel irony of it all. 

“Forgot what…?” Yamaguchi starts to ask, but the realization quickly settles on his face.

“The meds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (trust me xoxo)
> 
> Song: Always You - Panic! At the Disco  
> I chose to use this song again with different lyrics because every time I listen to it I imagine it being split between two different perspectives, and it just fits so well for these two ;_;
> 
> Next update: TBT  
> I'm going to be completely honest with you my friends, I'm not doing so hot right now. As the holidays approach things get tough, as I'm sure some of you can understand. I can't lie when I say what I have planned for next chapter is quite heavy. I love this fic with all my heart and soul and want to do it justice, but I don't think I'm in the right mental space to be able to handle writing at the moment. I also worry about my readers as well, as some of you have shared your own struggles with me, and the last thing I want to do is put out something really tough to read during a time that may already be difficult for some. My plan is to give myself patience and self-care to make it through New Years and come right back to you all!! HOWEVER! If you haven't put my account on notifications, it would be so, so lovely if you did!! I might (emphasis on might) have a little something else going up for Christmas, and if I finish it in time it'll be a separate work from this one so don't miss out ^^ <3  
> Anyway, I can't express how grateful I am to those of you who are here with me every update. I love you all so much.
> 
> Take care, be safe, happy holidays, and if no one has told you recently, you're doing great, and you're gonna be alright. <3


	16. even the stars they burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sprawled awkwardly on the cement floor outside of one of Fukurodani’s school buildings in the blazing Tokyo summer heat, Kei mentally scribbles a new meaning to his definition of “happiness.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends <3 I am BACK! I can’t thank you all enough for kindness and patience. I am so excited to bring you this update, I truly hope you enjoy it. ^^
> 
> t/w: /detailed/ descriptions of a panic attack.

**_July 19th, evening_ **

“They’re not here.”

Yamaguchi moves a little closer, looking at the ragged mess of the bag, and then up at Kei’s face. “What’s not here?”

“I fucking  _ forgot _ them,” Kei spits out, a heated blaze of anger towards himself brewing quickly, but half of him almost wants to laugh at the cruel irony of it all. 

“Forgot what…?” Yamaguchi starts to ask, but the realization quickly settles on his face.

“The meds.”

Kei takes one more look at the bag he threw aside, knowing damn well he searched every nook and cranny upwards of twenty times hoping, praying, they would magically appear. 

Of course they didn’t, because this isn’t a fairytale. This is reality. A reality in which Kei is a god damn fucking  _ idiot. _

Kei thinks he hears Yamaguchi mumble something along the lines of “Are you sure? Let me check…” but he doesn’t really hear him. He’s already lost in his head, retracing every memory from back when he was packing for this trip. He remembers the meds on the table. Remembers reminding himself  _ not to forget.  _ Wait, were they on the table?  _ Fuck.  _ His mind is starting to go blank and  _ god fucking dammit how do you forget the most vital piece of this whole plan?! _

It doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters now. He’s fucked up. Bad. Everything’s ruined because he couldn’t remember those god forsaken pills he’s been a slave to for the past 5 months of his life.

Is that Yamaguchi’s voice again? Kei isn’t sure. He can’t hear anything but high pitch ringing. His vision is failing him now, too. He can vaguely make out the shape of his own shaking hands trying to squeeze themselves awake to no avail. Every breath he takes, no matter how desperate, feels shallower and shallower.

Air. He needs fresh air.  _ Now _ .

Somehow, he stands. And somehow, he makes it out of the room, bumping against the doorframe on the way out. He gasps as he leans against the railing of the stairs leading to the first floor. His legs tremble one step after another, counting on what’s remaining of his senses to guide him to the door.

He didn’t hear the rushing footsteps that followed behind him, but suddenly there’s a hand around his arm practically holding him up and the door he didn’t realize he was feebly attempting to open finally swings outward.

The summer heat is extremely unwelcome against his skin, but even worse is the thick, moist air that makes his lungs feel like they’re drowning. The quicker he gasps, the less oxygen passes through his system, but he’s too far gone to slow it down.

Someone helps lower him down against the wall and there’s a voice again. Two voices? One has to be Yamaguchi. But the other voice…? Is that…Akaashi? It’s gone before Kei can really be sure, but it doesn’t matter anyway. Nothing matters, anyway.

A water bottle is pressed against his lips but he jerks his head away, body rejecting the idea of taking anything in. He’d probably just choke.

With every intake of the humid, Tokyo air, Kei loses another fraction of himself to something far darker than he’s ever felt before. He tries to move his arms, but it’s like they don’t belong to him anymore. He tries to blink his eyes open but he can’t see anything but hazy blackness. Maybe he’s dying. He doesn’t know what it feels like to die, but he imagines it might be something like this. His consciousness, or whatever you want to call it, doesn’t feel like it exists in his body anymore. He’s drifting, terrified, somewhere dark and isolated and horrifying.

Time isn’t a concept in this nightmare. Who knows how long, how many seconds, minutes, maybe even hours have passed. The only thing Kei knows for certain is he’s going to be stuck here forever.

Huh?

That’s weird.

There’s some kind of sensation...somewhere. He can’t tell where, though. He’s been thrust out of the drivers seat of his own body. Whatever it is, it’s warm. Unlike the uncomfortable summer heat, it’s a familiar and safe warmth.

It’s brief, but for a split second Kei registers reality. That sensation he feels are hands. Two hands, softly holding the sides of his face. The realization acts as some sort of anchor between reality and the nightmare of darkness he slipped into. But Yamaguchi has never held his face like that before...

His brain registers yet another voice, and the anchor drags against the depths of his mind, yanking him further toward the side of reality. Sure enough, it’s not Yamaguchi’s voice. It’s not Akaashi’s either. 

It’s hard, it feels almost impossible, but what remains of Kei’s consciousness tries to focus on those hands on his face and the sound of that voice.

“Tsukki, you’re okay.”

_ Ah… _

“Tsukki, deep breaths, hey.”

_ Kuroo-san… _

“Yeah, it’s me, I’m here.”

Slowly, piece by piece, Kei can feel himself becoming one with his body again. His hands are his again, but they’re still too numb for him to move. His legs are his again, but they’re still too weak to stand. His chest is his again too, but it’s still rapidly rising and falling, desperate for relief.

“Tsukki? You can hear me now right? I’m here, you’re okay.”

Kei’s eyelids flutter open, making out a hazy outline of a person with an absolutely ridiculous hairstyle. 

“Kuroo...san...?” he rasps out, breathing still uneven.

“Yeah, hey.” Kuroo gives him a small smile.

“No...no, I, fuck.” Kei remembers everything, remembers the forgotten meds, remembers how he’s ruined everything.

And just like that the world is spinning again and he can’t breathe.

“Tsukki, Tsukki! Breathe with me Tsukki.” Kuroo’s voice rings out.

“I c...I can’t,” Kei chokes out, body heaving forward in a fit of coughs and gasps.

“Shhh, shhhh, Tsukki yes you can.”

Kei prepares to argue, but is silenced by the sudden sensation of warm lips against his forehead. 

His entire body freezes, and in that moment his panicked breathing stops as well. Completely shell-shocked, he focuses on Kuroo’s face, so incredibly close to his own, and suddenly he realizes there is one thing that does still matter after all. 

Kuroo’s eyes never look away from his, and he doesn’t say a word. All he does is breathe in and out in slow, easy motions that Kei somehow manages to follow along with.

His chest is on fire, but the source of heat is conflicting. Each breath he takes is like dragging daggers against his lungs, and god, it burns. But those hands on his face, those eyes that refuse to leave his, they stir the flames in his stomach that threaten to take over his body completely.

At some point it just becomes far too much, so he closes his eyes and hangs his head as the full realization of the situation settles in completely.

Kuroo moves his hands to wrap around Kei’s shoulders, keeping him steady. “Tsukki?” His voice calls out, quiet and calm.

“I never—“ Kei starts, but lunges forward in a fit of coughs in lue of finishing his sentence. _ God damn lungs. _

“Hey, you’re alright, here, drink some, please.” Kuroo pats Kei’s back through the coughing fit, holding an already opened water bottle out for him.

Kei takes it gratefully, each gulp easing the burning sensation and opening up his airways. Finally, he can breathe easier again.

It takes some time, probably a few minutes, but his breathing completely evens out and he regains the feeling in his limbs again. The worst is over, and my  _ god _ was that the worst so far.

Kei sets the water bottle down and sighs. His eyelids flicker open, but only to meet the ground where a pair of red sweatpants remain kneeling in front of him.

“I never wanted you to see me like that,” he confesses quietly.

Kuroo pauses long enough to make Kei lift his eyes off the ground because for a moment he thinks he’s finally gone and done it. Said something too much for even Kuroo to want to bother dealing with.

It startles him to find Kuroo just silently looking down at him. A thousand things are written in his eyes. Kei tries to read even one of them, but he can’t see through the clouds of his own thinking.

His arm moves before that cloudy thinking can even register exactly what he’s doing. His right hand wraps around the back of Kuroo’s neck, fingers weaving their way around the short mess of hair there.

And he yanks him closer.

Kuroo lets out a small yelp as he falls forward, hands barely catching himself on each side of Kei’s body. His eyes, so close that their noses touch, suddenly say a thousand more things than they did before.

Kei closes his eyes again, pressing his forehead against Kuroo’s, and takes a deep breath. The kind you take before you plunge yourself off a cliff, still not completely sure if the ropes will catch you in the end.

“I never wanted you to see me like that, because I was convinced that would be the moment you’d realize there’s no way you could deal with someone like me. I’m not exactly easy to deal with in general, so this entire time I’ve been at a complete loss as to why. Why you put up with me, why you support me so much. But I’m scared, Kuroo-san. I’m scared the reality of this will be too much for you. I just—“

His voice cracks, and he curses both himself and the universe because god dammit, he will not cry. But that would just be the cherry on top of all of this, wouldn’t it?

“I just don’t want you to give up on me.”

Kei’s grip in Kuroo’s hair tightens, and he does his best to ignore the tears that pool over and fall off of his cheeks.

He feels Kuroo try to shift his position so he lets go of the near death grip he had in his already disastrous hair. For half a second, Kei thinks Kuroo is trying to get away from him. But he doesn’t get the chance for that doubt to fully form because Kuroo’s hands are back on his face, just as close as they were a moment before.

Kuroo wipes Kei’s tears away with his thumbs, and even though his eyes still say two thousand different things, they’re as confident and steadfast as ever. He could probably say anything right now and Kei would believe him.

“Tsukki.”

Just the sound of his nickname, the one Kuroo never gave any hesitancy to use from the very beginning, the one Kei never tried to stop him from using, sends a billion volts of electricity through Kei’s veins. He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. 

He doesn’t.

“Tsukki...I will  _ never _ give up on you,” Kuroo says, so simply but so firmly, it’s damn near a vow.

Kei is utterly speechless. His eyes are glued to Kuroo’s, lost in the comfort and reassurance they bring. But there’s something about hearing the exact words you always wanted to hear come from the exact person you always wanted to hear them from. So in an instant, his vision goes blurry but he doesn’t fight the flood of tears this time. He’s too overwhelmed by the precious feeling of relief to care.

Kuroo presses his forehead back against Kei’s, wiping the tears as they come, and continues speaking low and softly. “I know words can only bring you a certain amount of reassurance. But I hope you believe me when I say that. If anything you should take that as a word of warning, ‘cuz it means you’re gonna have to deal with my obnoxious ass from here on out, no matter what.”

Kei huffs a laugh, “Well, when you put it that way, I should probably start running now.”

Kuroo breaks into that devilish, crooked grin of his. “You won’t though, right?”

Kei puts a hand on top of one of Kuroo’s, leaning his head further into his touch.

“Never.”

Kuroo only smiles wider at that, and Kei’s eyes can’t help but be drawn to his lips. Kuroo, going wide-eyed for a brief moment at the realization, flickers his own eyes down to Kei’s. 

The air is heavy between them, so close their breaths are mixing. Kei watches as Kuroo’s smile fades into something much more nervous—and yet he has the nerve to wet his lips.

The brief glimpse of tongue sends Kei’s eyes shooting back up to meet Kuroo’s, who were already waiting for his. This time, the only thing reflecting in them is a single question. And this time, Kei can read it like a book. It’s a silent, hesitant request for permission. Kei supposes there’s really only one way to answer.

Cheek still nuzzled into Kuroo’s left hand, they’re already at the perfect angle. Kei just has to reach with his free hand once more behind Kuroo’s neck, encouraging him to close the remaining centimeter of distance between them.

Kei closes his eyes.

Sprawled awkwardly on the cement floor outside of one of Fukurodani’s school buildings in the blazing Tokyo summer heat, Kei mentally scribbles a new meaning to his definition of “happiness.”

Kuroo’s lips are somehow softer, somehow sweeter, and infinitely better than Kei ever dreamed of. (And he dreamt of them a lot.) 

He is too lost in the perfection of the moment to count how long it lasted, but Kuroo eventually tries to pull away. Emphasis on “tries,” because Kei sits up a little further and cups Kuroo’s jaw instead, bringing him in once more.

Neither of them rush too much or push too far. Just the simple press of warm, longing lips against each other is overwhelming enough for Kei, and if Kuroo’s racing heartbeat is any indication, he feels the same. So they linger in the moment, cherish the world spinning reality and savor every sensation.

It’s Kei who pulls away with the smallest of gasps, feeling like another second spent against Kuroo’s lips might make his mind spiral into territory definitely not fit for the cement floor of a very open, very public place.

Kuroo’s breathing has definitely grown more ragged, so he sits straight up to take in a deep breath, letting his hands fall down into Kei’s lap where they meet with his once more. Kei watches him, subconsciously tracing his thumbs against the outside of Kuroo’s hands that fell into his lap. 

Kuroo tilts his head up to the sky and lets out some sort of half-sigh/half-laugh that can only be translated to “Holy shit, I can’t believe that just happened.”

Kei can’t help but laugh at him for it, so Kuroo looks down at him with a cocked eyebrow and says, “Listen, kinda havin’ a moment here.”

“And you don’t think I am?” Kei retorts.

Kuroo hums, then swiftly leans down until he’s once again just a breath away from Kei’s lips. Kei audibly gasps at the sudden movement, resisting probably twenty heart attacks all at once. Kuroo smiles, annoyingly satisfied. “I suppose you are,” he coos.

“Oh my god you—“ Kei starts to say, but mother fucking will-definitely-be-the-end-of-him Kuroo Tetsurou  _ literally _ shuts him up with his lips.

He pulls away ( _ far too quickly _ ) with a bit more of a dramatic smack of his lips to punctuate the statement. “Sorry Tsukki, I couldn’t let you get away with thinking you had the upper hand,” he says, all too proud of himself.  _ Damn him.  _

Kei opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, then resorts to just putting his face in his hands. One day there will be revenge. Mark his words.

“So!” Kuroo announces, plopping himself completely down onto the concrete and crossing his legs, “You feelin’ alright now?”

Kei drops his hands and feels one of his eyes physically twitch. Well, he just rode the wave of by far the scariest panic attack to date in front of the boy he lo—likes a lot. And then proceeded to kiss said boy. Can “alright” even remotely be used in this situation?

“Spectacular,” he replies, only half sarcastic. “Wait, can you uh, explain how exactly you...found me? I swear it was Yamaguchi who was with me but it’s pretty fuzzy…”

“Ah, yeah.” Kuroo brings the usual hand to the back of his neck. “I was getting ready to head out for free practice, but Akaashi ran in to get me.”

_ That was Akaashi’s voice after all,  _ Kei thinks to himself, and has to bite back the dread of realizing that’s another person who’s seen him in that...state.

“He didn’t say much other than he saw you seemed unwell and told me where you were, so I tried to find you as fast as I could,” Kuroo continues, hand now on his chin as he tries to recall everything exactly how it happened. “Akaashi must have told Yamaguchi he was coming to get me, because when I got there he just shot up and told me to stay with you while he went to grab your headphones. He never did come back though…”

Oh, god. He probably did come back and saw...whatever it was he saw and chose to not interrupt. Kei feels himself flush. He won’t get away with not fessing up details after being seen like that.

“Well, that’s gonna be fun to explain later,” Kei groans.

Kuroo laughs awkwardly. “Yeah I kinda figured he purposefully didn’t come back. I was too focused on you to really see if he even tried to, so guess we’ll find out?”

“Sure will,” Kei sighs, “Did he say anything else to you?”

“Nope.” Kuroo shakes his head, pursing his lips, “And I didn’t ask for details, just wanted to help you feel better first.”

Kei goes silent at that, fiddling with his fingers. He’s positively dreading telling Kuroo that he’s ruined this entire thing, but there’s no way around it.

He takes in a deep breath, still a little shaky, and gathers the courage to look Kuroo in the eyes. 

“I fucked up,” he admits, waving the final remnants of his pride goodbye.

Kuroo cocks his head to the side, clearly confused, so Kei just lets the word vomit take over. “I forgot my meds. Literally the most  _ important _ thing I could possibly forget, and I went and fucking forgot. I keep trying to go over it in my head a thousand times because I  _ swear _ I packed them but I can’t remember clearly, and they’re definitely not here. It’ll be bad if I don’t take them. I don’t handle the side effects well. So everything’s fucked. I ruined this whole thing by doing something so stupid and I’m so, so sorr—“

Kei grunts in surprise, swallowing the last of his apology down as Kuroo’s lips meet his out of nowhere for the second time.  _ If he doesn’t stop doing this, I might actually die of a heart attack,  _ Kei thinks, head spinning.

“ _ Kuroo-san! _ ” Kei chides when he can breathe again, “Do you want to kill me?”

“Of course not,” Kuroo huffs, “I just want to stop you from talking nonsense.”

“Huh?” Kei raises his eyebrows at him, adjusting his glasses that got tweaked off balance during Surprise Kiss Attack #2.

“Saying things like you’ve fucked up everything, being so hard on yourself for a simple mistake. Sure, it’s definitely something that we’ve gotta stop and think of how to work around, but I just hate hearing you talk about yourself like that,” Kuroo says, watching him with patient but concerned eyes. He reaches to tuck back in a bit of Kei’s hair that got put out of place when he fixed his glasses. “You didn’t ruin anything. There’s solutions to everything, even something like this. Plus, I’ve already got an idea.”

Kei’s eyes widen at that. “What do you mean you’ve already got an idea?”

Kuroo leans in again, a sneaky grin growing on his lips. “I happen to know someone with a car.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t wanna be someone who walks away so easily.  
> I’m here to stay and make the difference I can make.”
> 
> Song: I Won’t Give Up - Jason Mraz 
> 
> The way I cried a thousand times while writing this. I hope it was worth the wait ;_; Anxiously looking forward to your comments aahhhh <3
> 
> For the sake of my own sanity, I will refrain from promising solid update dates. If you would be so kind as to subscribe to this fic or to my account, it would mean the WORLD to me. Additionally, if you want updates as to what I’m up to or would like to chat with me, I have reopened my twitter account!! It’s the same username as here, nekolyssi. Please feel free to DM me any time about anything, I promise I don’t bite <3 On my Twitter I have my curiouscat linked, so you can ask me anything you want!! Fic related, me related or anything really! I would just love the chance to interact with you all more. Anyway, I digress. I sincerely hope you’ve all been well!! Until next time <3


	17. reach for the sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tetsurou thinks that by now, he’s gotten pretty damn good at reading Tsukki’s emotions that he hides so desperately underneath all those thorns. But right now, he hasn’t got a clue what he’s thinking. It creates a deep crater inside Tetsurou’s gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t/w: nothing in particular this chapter! YAY!

**_July 19th, evening_ **

“I happen to know someone with a car,” Tetsurou says, a plan already running at full speed in his head.

Tsukki goes wide-eyed for a moment, then furrows his brows in confusion. “Hold on. What? Back up. What exactly are you getting at?”

Tetsurou leans back, plopping both hands onto the concrete on either side of him and shrugs. “You need to get back out to Miyagi for your meds right? I know how busy your mom is and all, so I’m sure you’re worried about how you’re gonna get all the way out there. That’s where I come in.”

Tsukki stares blank-faced at him as if he didn’t process a single thing Tetsurou just said to him. “Wait, you have a driver’s license?”

Tetsurou barks out a laugh. “ _ That’s _ what you’re worried about?”

Tsukki grimaces. “I’m not  _ worried _ about it, I just didn’t know you could drive. Surprised me is all.” He huffs a little, looking off in that pouty way he does when he gets flustered.

“Yep! Don’t have a car of my own yet, but when my sis is in town she lets me take it on drives with her.”

Tsukki flinches a bit at that, and Tetsurou instantly realizes his mistake.  _ Oh god that’s right, the accident. Fuck, alright, avoid topics like that, _ he mentally files the information away in his head.

“A-anyway! What I’m trying to get at is I can get my hands on a car, take you out to Miyagi and bring you back here. No problem.” 

“You’re insane,” Tsukki dismisses, still looking off to the side, expression complicated.

Tetsurou pauses. Maybe that was too forward? He pushes down the slight feeling of disappointment and sits up straight again. “Just a suggestion, no pressure. What were you thinking?”

Tsukki sighs and finally returns Tetsurou’s gaze. “Was a bit too preoccupied to be able to think as far as a plan, but going over other available options now, I can think of exactly... zero.”

Under any other circumstances, Tetsurou would smirk because Tsukki essentially proved him right. Now’s not the time for that at all though, so he nods sympathetically instead and says, “Let me help you out. I want to, really.”

Tetsurou thinks that by now, he’s gotten pretty damn good at reading Tsukki’s emotions that he hides so desperately underneath all those thorns. But right now, he hasn’t got a clue what he’s thinking. It creates a deep crater inside Tetsurou’s gut. He’s holding onto each breath Tsukki takes, waiting for him to say anything at all.

Tsukki leans back and rests his head against the wall of the building, closing his eyes and letting out another big sigh. “This is gonna be such a bitch to explain.”

Tetsurou can only imagine half of the scenarios Tsukki is running through his mind right now. All he can do is help ease the few he can think of.

“When it comes down to it, this is your business and no one else’s. We can keep the explanations down to the only ones who actually need to know.”

Tsukki’s eyes open at that. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Tetsurou doesn’t hold back a smile this time. Tsukki’s come a long way from letting himself stay wrapped up in a storm of negative thinking. “So, who should we go to first? I can tag along or stay back, whichever you’re most comfortable with.”

Tsukki sits back up, slinging his arms over his knees. “Suppose I should go to Coach Ukai. Or Takeda-sensei, whoever we find first. They can’t really reject this idea, they allowed Tanaka’s speed demon of a sister bring the idiot duo out to Shinzen High during first year.”

Tetsurou laughs at that. “Holy shit, that’s right! I totally forgot. Their entrance was dramatic as hell.”

It’s very small, but Tsukki smirks slightly at the memory too. “Yeah, I’d like to avoid that level of dramatics if you don’t mind.”

“No worries there. I obey every and all traffic laws, especially speed limits.”

Tsukki cocks an eyebrow at him, clearly not believing him in the slightest.

Tetsurou tries to seriously hold his gaze for maybe 3 or 4 seconds before he cracks, laughing despite himself. “Okay okay, listen, I at least promise I’m a responsible driver. I’ll drive  _ under _ the speed limit if it makes you feel better.”

“Not worried about that,” Tsukki responds, but the way he’s fidgeting with his hands makes Tetsurou think differently.

“So! We’ve been hanging out on the floor here for approximately.” Tetsurou checks his wrist, where there is no, nor has there ever been, a watch, “A long time.” 

Tsukki snorts and Tetsurou counts it as a small win for now. He stands up, dusting off his red gym pants, then rolls his shoulders and neck for a quick stretch. He starts to reach his hand down to help Tsukki up, but startles at the realization that he was being watched the whole time. Clearing his throat to cover up the slip in his composure, he fully extends his hand down with a soft smile and asks, “Shall we get going?”

Tsukki grabs his hand, his touch considerably lighter so Tetsurou has to grasp a bit more firmly in order to hoist him up off the ground. 

Tsukki does his own quick stretch routine, Tetsurou watching each movement, noticing the small details of his body.

He scowls, and when Tsukki finally notices he snaps a defensive “What?” at him.

Tetsurou crosses his arms, puffing his chest out. “It pisses me off that you’re taller than me.”

Tsukki’s expression goes from annoyed to sickly satisfied in a span of .025 seconds. “Haven’t I always been taller than you, Kuroo-san?”

“Barely, from what I remember. How tall are you now?” 

“I passed 190cm in my first year, Kuroo-san. I’ve literally  _ always _ been taller than you.”

Tetsurou clicks his tongue. “Whatever, my hair makes up for it.”

“That absolutely does not count.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been reminded on more than one occasion.” Tetsurou waves a hand, admitting defeat. “Let’s get going, yeah?”

“Yeah, I think our coach should still be in the main gym. Might as well head there first,” Tsukki suggests, all previous sense of tension gone.

Tetsurou nods with a smile, and starts in the agreed direction. Truthfully, he doesn’t mind the fact that Tsukki’s taller than him. Not one bit. He just wanted to see Tsukki smile a little, even if it was his obnoxious self-satisfied smile. The atmosphere lightened thanks to his little ruse as well, so he thinks to himself for just a moment that yeah, he can figure this out. He can navigate the ins and outs of how to be a productive support system for Tsukki, should he let him stick around to do so. And god, he hopes he will.

When they reach the gym, Tsukki asks him to hang back by the entrance so he can talk to his coach and advisor by himself. Tetsurou has no qualms about this, so he leans against the doors of the entrance and briefly scans the gym. Most of Karasuno is here, running their own individual training either in pairs or small groups. That freak duo claimed a net of their own and Tetsurou’s eyes widen at the impressive quick they pull off with seemingly no effort. They’re going big places. He can feel it in his bones, just as he did with Bokuto. He’s excited to watch where they’ll end up.

“Ah, Kuroo-san..?”

Tetsurou turns his head at the sound of his name, eyebrows raising when he registers who said it. 

“Ah! Yamaguchi-kun! Tsukki’s alright, he’s talking to your coach right now.” Tetsurou gestures his head to the corner of the gym, where both he and Yamaguchi glance over to see Tsukki, head lowered and one hand clasping onto his opposite arm. Mid-explanation, probably.

“That’s a relief,” Yamaguchi sighs, then turns back to Tetsurou. “I’m assuming he’s trying to arrange a way home? Ah.” his eyebrows furrow in conflict, “He uh, he told you right…?”

“Oh, yeah, I know what happened. As for the way home, as long as they’re fine with it I’m gonna take him there and back,” Tetsurou explains easily, but the look on Yamaguchi’s face has him stumbling for a deeper explanation. 

“I, uh, please don’t worry though! I promise to get him back here safely! I have a license and everything, I—“ Tetsurou fumbles helplessly for a moment before Yamaguchi giggles and puts a hand on Tetsurou’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I have no issue with the idea. I was just shocked for a moment that you’d go so far to help Tsukki. But then again, it was wrong of me to even doubt that.” Yamaguchi wears a very warm, knowing smile. It makes a blush almost dare to form across Tetsurou cheeks.

“I...hah…yeah, I mean, I’d do just about anything if it would help him in the least,” Tetsurou admits, scratching behind his ear and reflexively looking back over to check on Tsukki.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Yamaguchi says quietly, causing Tetsurou to whip his head back with a soft “Huh?”.

“There’s nothing harder than watching your best friend suffer and feel completely helpless. Sure, I do what I can, but I knew it would never truly be enough. But ever since you became a big part of Tsukki’s life, I’ve seen such a big change in him. I don’t know to what extent you realize it yourself, and I’m sure he’d eat his own shoe before admitting it, but you really mean a lot to him.”

Inside Tetsurou’s chest is a war between a celebratory fireworks display and an aching, bleeding heart. “Wow I... I don’t know what to say.”

There’s a million things he  _ could _ say. How there’s been dozens of times he’s felt helpless too, how much he appreciates Yamaguchi’s support this entire time, how Tsukki means more to him than he’ll probably ever be able to adequately express. He could say all of these things and yet he’s tongue tied.

“Don’t worry, I know I kinda laid a lot on you there.” Yamaguchi chuckles lightheartedly, the freckles across his cheeks complementing his warm smile. “Just know that I’m grateful. Please continue to take care of him in the ways that I can’t.”

Tetsurou hangs his head for a moment to hide the quiver of his lips, but raises it once again with a firm nod of confidence. “I will do my best, I promise.”

Yamaguchi nods back at him, then flickers his eyes once again over to the corner of the gym. Tsukki’s on the phone now, and within seconds hands it over to their advisor. Probably his mom or brother confirming their permission to this whole ordeal.

“I might get hell later for getting caught chatting with you, so I’m gonna head over to practice before he notices. Thanks again and get back safely, ‘kay?”

Tetsurou barely gets a response out before Yamaguchi starts jogging to the opposite side of the gym. Tetsurou takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, leaning back against the wall again. 

_ Tsukki’s really lucky to have such a good best friend, _ Tetsurou thinks to himself.  _ Who wouldn’t want a friend like that? _

He hears footsteps approaching, so he straightens up. Tsukki, accompanied by both his coach and advisor walk up to him. Tetsurou immediately feels a bit nervous, though none of them would ever know. In full fake it till you make it style, he waves a hand accompanied by a charming smile, giving the standard “good work today” greeting.

Both adults return his greeting, while Tsukki stands there gripping his arm once again, clearly wanting to get this over with as fast as possible.

“I understand you’ve offered to take Tsukishima-kun back home to retrieve his necessities and return back here tomorrow, is that correct?” The advisor asks, eyes friendly but voice so serious it’s quite frankly terrifying. 

“That’s correct sir,” Tetsurou responds carefully so as to not stumble over his words.

The coach speaks this time around. “We’ve got a hold of his family and they’ve agreed to the idea so we’ll allow it too, so long as you can show us your license.”

“Oh, of course, no problem. I’ll grab it right away,” Tetsurou replies, silently thanking the universe that he remembered to bring his wallet with him today.

“Thank you for your cooperation and for your generosity. I’ll admit our hands are a bit tied in this regard, so you’ve done us a favor as well for taking care of Tsukishima-kun,” the advisor confesses, smiling now.

“I-it’s nothing, I’m happy to help!” Tetsurou stutters. So much for not stumbling over his words. Damn, this guy has such an aura about him. Tetsurou would never want to be scolded by a teacher like him.

“Now then!” the coach blurts, smacking Tsukki on the back, “You, off to get your stuff. And you-” -he nods in Tetsurou’s direction- “The license, please. We’ll be here.”

“Got it,” Tetsurou confirms, eyeing Tsukki, unsure if they should leave together or what.

Brief eye contact gives him all the affirmation he needs, so when Tsukki heads out first Tetsurou gives a final bow then follows behind.

Once they’ve walked well out of earshot, Tetsurou lets out a huge sigh of relief. “Damn, your advisor is scary.

“What? You mean Takeda-sensei?” Tsukki asks, entirely confused.

“Yeah! He’s got this mix of friendly and threatening at the same time. Made me feel like I was back in first year getting scolded for fighting with Yaku.”

“He’s never been anything but kind to me, but I think I get what you mean. I’ve heard him rip the two idiots a new one on several occasions.”

“Exactly. He holds immense power, I just know it.”

Tetsurou waits for even the smallest of responses from Tsukki, but nothing comes. Ah, well. He’s gotta be completely burnt out at this point.

Rather than forcing anything further, Tetsurou remains silent on the walk back to the staying quarters. 

It’s well past 7 p.m. by now, so the sun has long since set. As expected of Tokyo summers, it’s not quite hot, but not quite cool either. As a born and raised Tokyoite, Tetsurou knows the thickness of the air will only get worse as they enter into August, so for now he cherishes the slight breeze that whispers its way through the trees that line Fukurodani Academy. 

Once inside, Tsukki mumbles a quick “Be right back.” and heads to Karasuno’s room. Tetsurou watches him walk away, trying to push down the worry that bubbles its way up to the surface. It’ll be fine, the plan’s in motion. It’ll be fine,  _ right _ ?

Shaking his head to erase the thought from his mind, Tetsurou turns and heads to his own team’s quarters. 

Just as he moves to grab the doorknob, he’s surprised by the door swinging open on its own. He takes a reflexive step back, just as anyone would when there’s a nearly 2-meter-tall silver haired model-material towering over you out of nowhere.

“Ah!! Kuroo-san!! Hey!!” The boy half-shouts.

“L-Lev?!” Tetsurou growls. “Jesus, you finally showed up?”

Lev beams, scratching the back of his head, “Sorry to keep you guys waiting! Me and my sis had a meeting with our manager. But I’m here now! D’you know where the team’s at? Oh!! Have you seen Hinata? Where’s he?”

“God, one thing at a time, Lev.” Tetsurou pinches the bridge of his nose. “If you’re looking for Hinata, he’s in the main gym. I’m actually not sure where Nekoma’s at.”

Lev cocks his head and purses his lips, a gesture normally out of character for someone as big as him, but this is Lev after all. 

“Wait, how do you not know where Nekoma’s at? Actually, why aren’t you in the gym anyway?” he questions.

Tetsurou sighs at the onslaught of questions, but figures this is the perfect opportunity anyway. “Something’s come up, I gotta go home for the night but I’ll be back tomorrow. I actually haven’t gotten to tell Nekomata-sensei yet, so when you find the team do you mind letting him know?”

Lev slams his feet together and salutes enthusiastically. “Roger that! See ya tomorrow, Kuroo-san!” 

He’s down the stairs and out of the building before Tetsurou can even blink. His name may mean “Lion,” but he’s more like an oversized puppy. Not much has changed in that regard. 

Tetsurou’s bag is off in the corner, away from all the futons since he never had the intention of staying overnight, anyway. Maybe he’ll crash here for the remaining nights now that Tsukki’s here though…

Hoisting the bag over his shoulder, he opens the main pocket to double check for his wallet. Everything seems in order, so he heads back out to find Tsukki already waiting for him in the hallway.

“Did I hear Lev?” Tsukki asks plainly.

Tetsurou huffs a laugh. “I’d compliment your hearing but I think the entire building heard, too. Yeah, he just got here.”

“I was wondering why I didn’t see him this morning.”

“Yeah, would you believe he got scouted into modeling? Guess some meeting held him up earlier.”

Tsukki’s expression doesn’t change one bit. His only response is a thoughtful hum.

_...It’ll be fine, right? _

Tetsurou shakes the recurring thought from his head. “Got everything? We should get going.”

“Yeah,” Tsukki replies, eyes so, so tired.

The two make their way back to the main gym, Tetsurou showing proof of his license while Tsukki waits out front so as to not raise any eyebrows.

Tetsurou silently guides him out of campus and towards the metro they’ll need to take to get to Tokyo University.

Silence with Tsukki is often easy, but there’s an undeniable uneasiness about everything in the air that makes Tetsurou want to run off on some random tangent just to fill the emptiness. 

He doesn’t, though. Believe it or not, he’s a bit drained too. But that doesn’t matter right now. He’s got a plan and many promises to fulfill.

When the station comes into view, Tetsurou reflexively grabs his phone in preparation to pay the entrance fee through the gates.

At the same time, Tsukki lets out a small “Ah,” causing Tetsurou to stop and turn around to ask what’s wrong.

“I uh, I didn’t bring my train pass,” Tsukki admits, frustration written all over his face. He crouches down and starts digging through his bag, presumably to hunt for his wallet.

Tetsurou snorts. “Wait, you don’t just have your pass connected to your phone?” He holds up his own phone in demonstration, revealing the electronic image of a train pass along with the remaining balance clearly stated underneath.

Tsukki glares up at him, wallet finally in hand. “Shut up, city boy. I rarely need to use the trains back home so a normal pass suffices.”

“Get with the tiiiimes, Tsukki,” Tetsurou drawls, following behind as Tsukki walks up to the manual ticket machines.

“How much do I need?” Tsukki eyes the complex map laid out on the wall above them, displaying an elaborate layout of every train line and station and their appropriate fees. 

“Huh?” Tetsurou asks.

“Huh?!” Tsukki asks, looking back at him in disbelief.

“Oh, the ticket fee. Riiiight. Well, we need to go to Hongo-sanchome Station so…” His eyes dance along the nearly unintelligible map. 

“Oh my god, have you never used a manual ticket machine before?” Tsukki asks incredulously.

“Listen you country bird, we Tokyoites use only the finest of technology. We have no use for such machines,” Tetsurou quips.

Tsukki pauses, then brings a hand up to his lips to muddle the chuckle that escapes him. Another follows, and then bubbles up into full blown laughter.

Tetsurou’s eyes go as wide as saucers. Frozen in place, he takes in every second. You see, Tsukki glows when he radiates intimidation on the court, but he dazzles when he smiles. 

When he laughs though, he’s blinding.

“Sorry, I just.” Tsukki gasps for breath, “I dunno why that got me so bad.”

Tetsurou doesn’t know why either, but he’s not going to question it.

Wiping his eyes under his glasses, Tsukki turns back to the machine. “You said Hongo-sanchome right? Alright, 168 yen. One sec.”

Tetsurou says nothing. He’s been stunned silent, with only the sound of Tsukki’s laughter echoing on loop in his head.

“Kuroo-san?”

Oh  _ god. _ Okay, Tetsurou is well aware of the fact that he’s blushing. The sudden close proximity Tsukki decided to put between them isn’t helping in the least, nor is that adorably clueless look on his face.

He can’t help it. He grabs both of Tsukki’s cheeks, relishing the saucer-eyes and instant warmth he gets in response. “If we weren’t in the middle of a train station right now, I would kiss your face off.”

“That sounds very threatening,” Tsukki replies between squished cheeks.

Tetsurou lets him go, cursing the flames brewing between them because  _ now is not the time, dammit. _

“Let’s go, country bird.” Tetsurou turns around and taps his phone to the sensor, gates opening up for him. 

On the train, Tsukki sits with his duffel bag in his lap, arms gently wrapped around it. The metro trains always sway a bit more than the above ground trains do, and the motion seemingly has put Tsukki to sleep.

Tetsurou watches from the corner of his eye. He can’t imagine the exhaustion Tsukki has been fighting this whole time. With another jerk of the tracks, Tsukki’s body leans into Tetsurou’s weight and stays there.

If he could, Tetsurou would let him stay there and rest as long as time allowed. Unfortunately, they’re approaching their stop, and Tetsurou is painfully aware of the glances they’re getting from some shitheads across from them.

“Hey, Tsukki, we’re almost there.” Tetsurou nudges him gently.

“Ngh..?” Tsukki sits up, eyes half open behind his skewed glasses.

Tetsurou has dreamt for months of what a sleepy Tsukki would look and sound like, but the middle of a train is no place for his threatening mental breakdown.

“Ahh, sorry.” Tsukki fixes his glasses and straightens up.

“No need to apologize. I’m sure you’re exhausted, you can sleep in the car,” Tetsurou quietly reassures.

But Tsukki gives no response, nor any cue that he even heard him in the first place.

Tetsurou watches him for a few extra seconds, but it does nothing but add to the pooling uneasiness in his gut.  _ Focus on the plan, Tetsurou. _

It’s less than a five minute walk from the station to the dorms. His feet move one in front of the other on autopilot while his mind remains in constant awareness of how near or far Tsukki is following beside him.

Neither say a word, but there’s not much to say anyway. The dorms aren’t even on campus so there’s no grand tour to give or fun facts to rattle off. The building looks like any run-of-the-mill apartment building. If you squint you can see Sky Tree way off in the distance, but Tetsurou knows Tsukki probably wouldn’t care even on a good day.

They approach the entrance, Tetsurou pressing his key to the scanner on the wall which opens the door for them. That at least gets an eyebrow-raise out of Tsukki. More of that “damn city boy technology.”

There’s no one in the lounge, as expected of summer vacation. During the actual school term it’s actually bustling with various study groups. Tetsurou prefers to study up in his own room or in Kenma’s, though.

Speaking of Kenma...he better not have any trips planned for this weekend, or they’re in trouble.

Their rooms are on the 10th floor, so Tetsurou leads Tsukki over to the elevators. With a familiar ding, the doors open and they step inside. There’s something about the silence of an elevator that’s more piercing than anywhere else. Maybe it’s the fact that the only white noise is that of the rumbling of the machinery, but it’s always been a bit unsettling to Tetsurou.

He steals a glance at Tsukki, whose eyes are as distant as ever, glued to the floor. Thankfully, his breathing seems perfectly even. Tetsurou was wondering if suddenly being whisked off to an unfamiliar place would make him uncomfortable. Maybe he’s just too exhausted to care, but there’s a small part of Tetsurou that hopes it’s simply because they’re together. 

Tetsurou shifts his gaze down a bit and notices that Tsukki’s hands are resting at down his sides rather than folded together in the front or fidgeting up near his chest. It’s unconscious, it’s a reflex, it’s an urge Tetsurou can’t and won’t fight. He reaches his hand out.

The elevator dings, and Tetsurou  _ does not jump. _

He does, however, curse under his breath. Tsukki apparently has selective hearing, because he responds to that and Tetsurou has to wave it off, slightly embarrassed. It would appear Tsukki didn’t notice his failed attempt at holding hands though. Small blessings.

A few steps down the hall leads them to Tetsurou’s room. “This,” he gestures dramatically, “is my room. However we will not be going inside. It’s a disaster and I’m not emotionally prepared for your criticism.” 

Tsukki smirks and Tetsurou’s heart squeezes. He takes one big step backwards so that he’s standing in front of Kenma’s door. “This is the room we need.” 

Tsukki furrows his brows and Tetsurou does his signature knock on Kenma’s door. Albeit physically improbable Tsukki furrows his brows  _ harder _ at that.

“What? It’s tradition.” Tetsurou winks.

The door opens, revealing a very confused, very unprepared-for-guests Kenma, and Tetsurou swells with fondness for his friend. He’s sporting one of his own brand’s signature hoodies, the one with the goddamn cat ears on it. It’s oversized, so his hands barely peak out of the sleeves to hold onto the PS Vita he’s got in his left hand. He’s also wearing the “What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the summer camps? I was fully expecting a quiet weekend” look on his face.

“Kuro,” he says as his way of greeting, which is 100% a demand for explanation instead.

“Hey Kenma, I need your car,” Tetsurou says with an unashamed grin. It’s better to get straight to the point with him, after all.

“What.”

“It’s a long story, but to sum it up, I gotta take Tsukki back to--Tsukki?!” Tetsurou stops mid sentence at the sight of Tsukki’s face, which is as white as a sheet.

“Ah, Tsukishima. It’s nice to see you, thanks for always commenting on my videos, I appreciate it.”

Tetsurou looks incredulously at Kenma, who’s actually  _ smiling _ ? Like, smiling-smiling. It even reaches his eyes. 

“Ah, um, I, uh, i-it’s no problem, I really um, enjoy your content.”

Jesus Christ, is Tsukishima Kei  _ BROKEN?  _ He’s bright red, furiously rubbing his arm and looking everywhere besides Kenma. Tetsurou has never heard Tsukki ever stumble over a single word, so to hear him stutter like this because of  _ Kenma? _ Holy shit, this is pure gold. Why didn’t he think to record this? Bokuto will never believe him.

Tetsuroucan’t hold it in any longer, this is all too much. He bursts out laughing. “What the  _ hell _ is happening?” He grabs his side with one hand and wipes a tear with another. “Tsukki, you’re telling me you’re a fan of Kenma’s? Oh my god that’s adorable. I’m so happy I brought you here, what the fuck--” He nearly chokes on the second wave of laughter.

“Kuro, don’t be an asshole,” Kenma scolds, whacking him on the head with his free hand for good measure, “I apologize Tsukishima, I really don’t know why you put up with him.”

“Me neither,” Tsukki says flatly.

“Hey!” Tetsurou snaps, rubbing the sore spot on his head.

“Anyway, I won’t ask questions. If it’s to help Tsukishima, that’s fine, one sec.” Kenma turns around, letting the door close for a moment.

Tetsurou cranes his neck very slowly in Tsukki’s direction knowing damn well what kind of face he’s going to be met with. 

‘If looks could kill’ is not an expression he throws around for just anyone, but let’s just say that right now, it very much applies.

The door swings open again and Kenma holds out his car keys. “Get a single scratch on it and I’ll kill you.”

“I feel like my life is being threatened on various levels right now,” Tetsurou laments.

Kenma manages to catch Tsukki’s gaze once more and offers him another eerily pleasant smile. “I’ll be counting on your support, please take care,” he says, then closes the door behind him for the last time.

Tetsurou swings the keys around his finger twice before catching them in the palm of his hand. 

“Sooo,” he starts to say.

“Don’t speak,” Tsukki says with such finality that Tetsurou sends a prayer to the universe that he’ll actually make it back to Tokyo alive.

“I can get you his number if you want--”

“OH MY GOD I SAID DON’T SPEAK!”

“OKAY SORRY.”

*****

“Holy fucking shit.”

Tetsurou nods in understanding. That’s pretty much everyone’s reaction when they see Kenma’s car.

“This is a joke, right?” Tsukki asks.

“Nope. He bought it before the semester started. I almost passed out the first time I saw it,” Tetsurou confesses, pressing the unlock button on the key and opening the door for Tsukki.

Kenma’s first car. A brand-new Jaguar F-Type convertible. Bright red. No, it’s not a joke.

“I almost don’t want to get in it. I feel like I’ll taint it or something.” Tsukki stands hesitantly by the door, peering in at the interior, eyes going wider than they already were.

“Get in loser, we’re going to Miyagi!” Tetsurou calls from the driver’s side.

“Did you just quote Mean Girls?” Tsukki asks, completely unamused, and finally gets in the car.

“Did you just recognize my Mean Girls reference?” Tetsurou chides back at him.

“Shut up.”

“Tsukki. I swear by Mean Girls.”

“Are you gonna keep talking or are you gonna start driving?  _ Can _ you even drive this thing?”

Testurou puts the key in the ignition and revs the engine a few times for good measure. “Sit back and enjoy the ass-heaters, Moonshine.”

“Oh my god,” Tsukki tries to say, but it’s muffled by his hands which he’s buried his face in.

Once they’ve pulled out into the main street, Tetsurou has Tsukki put his address into the GPS.

“Alriiight! Miyagi-bound, baby!” Tetsurou hoots, exhaustion from the day overshadowed by the sheer excitement and adrenaline from driving Kenma’s sweet ass car. “Oh! Tsukki, what kind of music do you want?” He plugs his phone into the aux cord at the next stoplight and opens his music app.

“Anything’s fine,” Tsukki replies flatly, head leaning against the seatrest and looking out the window.

“Are you sure,” Tetsurou replies, gravely serious.

Tsukki turns with a questioning look. “...Yes?”

Tetsurou grins devilishly and the look of regret settles on Tsukki’s face almost immediately.

Tetsurou hits play.

_ “I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me, I still feel your touch in myyyy dreeeaammsss,”  _ Tetsurou sings, terrible English pronunciation to boot, with all the enthusiasm he can muster. 

“Jesus Christ,” Tsukki returns his face to his hands.

_ “Forgive me my weakness but I don’t know why, without you it’s hard to suuurviiIIIIVVEEE!” _

“Please, sto--”

_ “CUZ EVERY TIME WE TOUCH, I GET THIS FEELING! AND EVERY TIME WE KISS, I SWEAR I COULD FLYYYY! CAN’T YOU FEEL MY HEART BEAT FA--ahh?”  _ Tetsurou stops his Grammy-deserving performance and pouts at Tsukki, who has inevitably disconnected his phone from the aux cord.

“You’ve lost aux privileges,” Tsukki deadpans, plugging his own phone in.

Tetsurou laughs despite himself. Despite this whole situation, despite everything, because he’s on a spontaneous road trip with the one he loves. Although the circumstances aren’t ideal, this is definitely an experience to be remembered.

They’ve got quite the drive ahead of them, it’s getting really late and they’re both tired, but there’s nowhere else Tetsurou would rather be.

When Tsukki settles on a song and frees up his hand, Tetsurou decides to make up for his earlier fail. He reaches across the armrest and takes Tsukki’s right hand. He can feel him startle a bit, but he doesn’t protest. Instead, he laces his fingers together with Tetsurou’s and returns his gaze out the window.

Tetsurou has never been one to like making assumptions. But maybe, just maybe, there’s nowhere else Tsukki would rather be, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Everytime We Touch - Cascada
> 
> Imagine me, on the train, trying to suppress a giggle fit writing that last part. Writing half of that, actually. Man, this one was a rollercoaster LOL. Sorry to keep you waiting yet again, but I hope you enjoyed <3
> 
> Make sure to follow me on twitter (same username: nekolyssi) for updates, sneakpeeks, etc!! ^^


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